The Detective's Daughter and The Circus Boy
by jeromevaleska
Summary: You are Jim Gordon's stubborn daughter, and the day you meet Jerome Valeska at Haly's Circus is the day that your life completely changes forever. (Takes place in 1x16, eventual smut)
1. Chapter 1

You couldn't believe your eyes. There was so many sights to feast your eyes on, and because it was your first time at the circus, you were eager to soak it all up. The smell of buttery popcorn mixed with sweet cotton candy, the way the sky was alight with shimmering stars, the flags that darted around in the wind, the festive and pleasant atmosphere as the patrons walked by, the cheering and laughter of children, it was all so beautiful. It seemed impossible for anything to go wrong, even though this was Gotham, the mood felt right, like you were safe here. You knew you didn't have anything to fear because your father, Jim, was around, so surely if anything did come up, he would be right there by your side and able to handle the situation with ease. You looked up to your father, he was a notable man, always putting the safety of the citizens of Gotham first no matter what, and he carried his badge with such pride. Because of him you were no damsel in distress, he taught you everything you needed to know about guns and how to take care of yourself in case he wasn't around, which proved to be effective when opportunity stroke. There was many perks to being the daughter of a detective, you were quick to catch onto that. As long as you two were by one another's side, everything was sure to be okay.

The big show was about to start so you and Jim stopped by to get some cotton candy at one of the booths before you two turned a corner and entered the largest tent you had ever seen. You both walked in, finding two empty seats in one of the bottom rows. The big top gradually began to fill up and echoed everyone's conversations off of its flimsy canvas. You turned to look at Jim with a smile before the show started, which he instantly returned and then wrapped his arm around your shoulder. He turned back when a voice boomed inside of the tent.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Haly's Circus of traveling wonders!"

"It's starting!" you whispered excitedly, taking a bite of your cotton candy that immediately melted on your tongue, your eyes glued onto the stage before you. You didn't blink from fear of missing even one second of this event. The lights dimmed and smoke filled the room. The lights flashed back on abruptly in different shades of blue and spun around the tent.

The trapeze acts started from the Flying Graysons, and it was a sight to see. The performers were oscillating about with the leverage of the trapeze bar to guide their movements, there was such a graceful flexibility to every back and forth swing. Your heart pounded with anticipation of their next move and they never disappointed, you were in complete and utter awe of their beautifully executed techniques. When the act finished, the audience went wild and began clapping loudly for all the performers.

"Give it up for the Flying Graysons, everyone!" the announcer exclaimed, and the applause only grew noisier accompanied by the joyous cheering of the audience.

When the Graysons left the stage, clowns in a clown car drove onto the stage, and once they came out of it, they were quick to start juggling while some rode on unicycles, and others were playing music. The tent was filled with entertainment, a happy crowd, and performers eager to please, but then it took an unexpected turn. One of the clowns picked a fight with a performer, and some of the others joined in on the brawl. Left and right punches were being exchanged amongst the people on the stage, and within a matter of moments everyone was fighting.

Jim made a grimace once he realized that this was not part of the act. He turned to his side to shoot you an annoyed look before he stood up from his seat, walking over to the stage until he was only a few steps away from the platform, holding his badge up and shouting, "GCPD! Everybody freeze!"

You heaved a long sigh. Of course, something had to come up. This was Gotham, so you couldn't have said you were surprised, but you were still disappointed. The brawl ceased when it was revealed that there was a cop around.

"Stay here," Jim ordered sternly, and you merely nodded your head in response. He informed the police as well as Leslie to help patch up the performers before he started interrogating them right on stage, asking them all about what caused the fight but he didn't seem to be getting anywhere judging by the frown stuck on his face. You didn't like waiting because you knew this was going to take a while, and you wished that you could do something other than sit around. You finished your cotton candy and in the meantime you played with your phone with a lack of interest.

Finally when Jim came back to where you were seated, you knew exactly what he was going to say.

"Hey sorry, things headed south," he said with a disappointed sigh, "this is going to take a while, I got something out of one of the performers and they told me to talk to someone named Lila, she's a snake dancer, they said she's probably in her trailer. Apparently she's the reason why everyone started fighting. So I'll get someone to take you home-"

"No, I don't want to go home, I'm staying here, with you," you told him solemnly, tone just as austere as his could be. You folded your arms across your chest like you always did when you weren't going to accept the word 'no' for an answer.

"I really think you should, you'll be safe back at home," he assured.

"Safe back at home? This is Gotham, I'm not safe anywhere," you replied matter-of-factly, "I'm tired of waiting around at home while you deal with all the action, let me on some of it," you added.

He shook his head before he answered, knowing that he would practically have to drag you back home because of how unrelenting you could be, "Persistent as always, huh? Fine, just stay by my side at all times, okay? And don't wander off."

"You got it," you chirped, unfolding your arms as you removed yourself from your seat. One of the performers led the way while you and Jim followed him to the trailer outside of the tent. The man knocked on the door to it before standing back with you two. Jim gave you a reassuring smile while you both waited. The door was opened by a ginger-haired boy, who already had a look of concern on his face.

"Hello?" he asked, his hand on the door as he turned to look at the cop and then back at you. You didn't understand why exactly, but the second you made his gaze you felt your heart swell up followed by your eyes lighting up in interest before you turned away back to your dad to pretend like it was nothing. Thankfully, Jim didn't seem to notice.

"GCPD. I'm here to speak with Lila," Jim greeted, stone-faced and straight to the point.

"She's not here. Why? Did something happen?" he questioned, sounding like he was on edge.

"There was a fight between the Graysons and Lloyds. Do you know where she is?" Jim asked.

"No, I don't know, the last time I saw her was this morning, before I left to the library," Jerome explained.

"Are you a relative of hers?" Jim inquired with a raise of his eyebrows as the ginger slipped his coat on with fumbling hands.

"I'm her son, Jerome," he told your father, quickly adding, "I've been trying to look for her since I got home, but she hasn't been around."

The performer walked over to the ginger before he said, "Jerome, relax. This gentleman is here because Owen and Al had a disagreement on stage. Your mother is alright, probably just went for a spree, you know how she can be."

"I - I don't know, she should be here by now. She left without her hat, her purse, her coat," Jerome said, starting to get choked up before he stopped.

Jim listened on, taking mental notes of everything he was saying and Jerome continued, "Sheeba's distraught, she knows something's wrong," he said as he turned to look at the snake in its cage whose body seemed to be tense, alarmed.

"She does seem to be on edge," Jim conducted. "How fast does an animal like that move?"

"Fast walking pace usually, they rely on surprise mainly," the ginger explained.

Jim nodded his head at that before he replied, "Let her out."

"Pardon?" Jerome asked with his head cocked to the side.

"I said let her out," Jim repeated. Jerome obeyed the detective and unlocked the snake from its confines, figuring it was better to comply. The snake slithered on the grass, undoubtedly searching for something. You all followed the creature's lead as it glided its way upon the haystacks, crawling until she slipped underneath the sheet of the back of a truck. You started to feel a little uneasy, wondering what the snake had found, there was a twinge in your stomach. Jim lifted the sheet from the truck, throwing it aside, and the sight before you was absolutely horrifying. Who you assumed must have been the snake dancer, was covered in fresh blood, her dress was seeping with it, eyes shut as the animal crept up on her lifeless body. You gasped and covered your mouth the second you saw it, eyes wide with terror, heart pounding rapidly in your chest that someone here in this very circus you attended had done this. You felt sick, your stomach in knots, and when you turned to look at her son, he had fallen to his knees, wet streaks sliding down his cheeks, and the look on his face was completely broken and helpless, like his whole world just stopped.

You rushed to the ginger's side, feeling an overwhelming need to comfort him because of his loss. You crouched down and set your arms upon his shoulders, hugging him close to your body while he sobbed hard, hands buried in his face. Jim had a grim look on his face, and he was quick to start accusing the performer.

Jerome had left the scene in a hurry, stricken with grief as he dashed back to the trailer. Jim seemed too distracted talking to the man, so you impulsively decided to follow the ginger, even though you knew you probably shouldn't have. You felt like it was the right thing to do, to try and comfort him. It didn't feel right letting him be alone after what he just witnessed. You walked in with him, and he shut the door behind you while he sat down on the futon positioned in the back. You took a seat next to him while he continued wailing, and because he seemed to be okay with your touch from earlier, you settled a hand on his back, rubbing his covered skin gently.

"Who could have done this to her? Who?" he cried, pulling his hands away from his face to utter those words before he covered it again. "My mother was such a good woman, she didn't deserve this. Why? Why her? Of all people?"

"I'm so sorry," you told him in a choked up whisper. You felt for him. It was nearly impossible not to. He was so frail and in pieces before you. You could empathize with his pain not only because you were compassionate but because you too lost your parents, in an accident when you were a little girl which was why you were under Jim's care in the first place. There was no right words to say at a time like this, and you wanted to be there for him in this time of misery so that he knew he wasn't alone.

"I just - I can't believe this happened," he barely managed to get the words out, and they were caught between many harsh breaths and sobs.

You continued to sit next to him in silence, save the sound of his mewling, stroking his back and shoulders, not knowing what to say because you knew he was still processing everything. You just wanted him to know that someone was listening.

"We're going to find out who did this to your mother, justice will be served, I promise you that," you leaned close to whisper near his ear, swallowing a thick gulp.

"Justice won't bring her back. Nothing will bring her back, she's gone forever and I will never get to see her again," he whimpered straight from his throat, each word coming out in stutters.

"They won't get away with this," you assured him, the corner of your eyes filling with tears that you had to fight to blink back. He pulled his hands away from his face and looked back at you, eyes red as he cracked a small smile while he sniffed, making your heart skip a beat all of a sudden.

"Thank you. You're really kind," he choked out, appreciating your concern for him. He sniffed, wiping his eyes away with the backs of his hands. "I look like such a mess right now, I know."

"No you don't, it's okay," you said, smiling softly back at him as your hands attempted to ease his tense body.

"I'm just - I'm going to miss her so much," he croaked before uttering a sigh.

You nodded your head upon his words, continuing to listen to anything that he had to say, knowing that was all you could truly do.

"I don't know how I'll be able to do this without her. She was such a beautiful, kind person, who could always handle me at my worst, you know?" he said between sniffs.

It was so easy for him to confide in you about his mother, and you noticed that he scooted closer next to your side while he described several things he was going to miss about her. Tears were still streaming down his face but he was finding it less difficult to speak now, and you couldn't help getting goosebumps as he recalled all these pleasant memories with you. Again, your eyes were welling up getting to know this circus boy on a more intimate level.

"Please don't cry, you're going to make me this harder on me," he uttered a huff of a laugh as he attempted to dry his face once more with his hands.

"I'm sorry," you replied as a smile stretched across your tear-stained face.

"You say sorry a lot," he noted, "don't apologize for anything, or anyone," he explained, his snivels having died down now as he spoke.

"Right," you answered with a slight nod of your head. You felt so sorry for the ginger that it ended up slipping out more than it should have. Before he could say anything more, there was a knock on the door. Jerome stood up to open it, and Jim shot him a somber look.

"We're gonna need to bring you in for further questioning, Jerome. Can you come down to the station with me?" he asked, his tone suggesting that there was no room for discussion.

"Yes, of course, sir," he said meekly, and he turned to look at you when you stood up, "thank you so much," he paused, waiting for you to fill in the blanks.

"Y/N," you informed quickly, "that's my name," you added, and he smiled at that before he stepped out of the trailer. Jim shot you a look that said: 'I know your heart is in the right place but you're being careless', so you knew that meant you would probably be feeling the wrath of one of his lectures later when you two got home.

"This is police business. I know you're trying to help, but I really think I should just take you home," he told you when you left the trailer, and the ginger wasn't around to hear what he was saying. "I don't want you getting involved, I told you not to wander off and of course, you did just that. We can't trust them, anyone of them could have done it."

"Dad, how do you expect me to be a detective one day when all you do is treat me like a little girl?" you countered. "You just want to send me home all the time, I'm tired of waiting around and doing nothing. I want to make this city a better place too, so let me," you protested, showing no sign of letting up. The main reason why you wanted to go to the station was because you knew Jerome would be there, and you didn't want to say goodbye to him just yet, especially when your time with him was interrupted because of your dad.

"I'm going to the station to try to get more information, please, don't argue with me, let me take you home," he urged.

"I'm going to the station with you," you sassed, "whether you want me to or not. I want to find out who did this. You involved me by taking me out here, so now I'm not going anywhere."

He sighed with what sounded like it was in defeat, knowing that there was no way you were going to change your mind once you made a decision like this.

"You can't interrogate anyone, you're not a cop," he explained, but you were not having any of it.

"Doesn't matter. You always said I had a good eye, maybe I can examine anyone that looks suspicious, give you pointers to anything you might have missed, and then you'll be thanking me later," you offered, and he shook his head, clearly disagreeing with everything you had to say but he knew despite his best efforts to try and convince you to listen to him, you were not going to comply, that was something he just had to accept. He was proud of you though, because you always reminded him of himself.

You followed him to the station while several police officers drove the circus performers there until it was bustling with them, and it was difficult to look for the ginger amongst the crowd but you were determined, and that was exactly why you were able to find him seated in one of the waiting chairs after what seemed like a hopeless search.

"Hey, are you going to be the one to interrogate me?" he joked with a tender smile that made your heart beat hard in your chest, butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, and you tried to play it off like it didn't affect you at all.

"No, I'm not a cop, just the detective's daughter. I wanted to see how you were doing," you confessed, your mouth speaking before your brain could keep up with you. You mentally kicked yourself for admitting that.

"That's what I figured. I really appreciate that. Thank you, you've been so kind and good to me. I don't know if I deserve it," he sighed before he looked down at the ground, averting your gaze now.

"Hey, don't say that," you bent down to look at him as you spoke.

He swallowed a lump in his throat before he continued, "I really don't. I should have never went to the library, I should have stayed with her. Then at least, maybe this never would have happened to her."

"That's not true, you can't blame yourself for this," you disagreed, placing a hand on his shoulder as his tears hit the ground, choking back a harsh sob.

"I feel like it is. It's all my fault, I'm to blame, she's gone because of me," he quavered, turning to look at you, cheeks wet again with his tears.

"No, you're not at fault here, none of this is your fault," you tried to reassure him of that, but he only continued to weep, repeating again and again that he was truly the guilty one for letting this happen. You remained by his side, attempting to soothe him with more of your gentle touch. He tried to speak more but all that came out was a jumbled mess of words followed by hiccups so he buried his head in your shoulder, sobbing in it and you held him close while he did, allowing his tears to soak in the material of your blouse. A frown was quick to mar your features, and you couldn't understand how people could be so cruel, how good people like his mother could be murdered mercilessly.

He lifted his head up after a long moment to try and speak again but it was interrupted when Jim walked out of the interrogation room, looking down at you two with his usual poker-face. "Jerome, I just need to ask you a couple of questions regarding your mother."

"Okay," he replied in a heavy sob, slipping his head away from your shoulder and sitting up from his seat, wiping his face before he left and stepped into the empty room. Jim shook his head at you, and gave you a look full of warning before he joined Jerome in the room.

When Jerome left, suddenly all the whining and complaining in the room from the circus entertainers rang clear in your ears, and now you wanted to go home because you expected he would be there for a while. But still you waited. From what you gathered from the suspects that this all stemmed from their feud with the Graysons and Lloyds, and that there seemed to be several men that were enticed with Lila. You acted as if you were distracted by your phone but really you were listening to the other detectives interrogating them in the station at their desks.

After what felt like an eternity, Jim came out along with Jerome, and he made an announcement on how everyone could go home but not to leave town because the investigation was still ongoing, excluding the two who began the fight: Owen and Al who were locked up behind in a cell during the meantime. Jerome turned to look at you during Jim's dramatic policemen speech, his gaze lingering like he didn't want to leave. You stood up from your seat to embrace him in a hug, and Jim was quick to notice this, a grimace forming halfway through before he continued on speaking.

"Don't worry, we'll see each other again, once I find out who did this to my mother," he promised in a murmur.

"Bye Jerome, take care," you whispered softly before he reluctantly pulled away from the warmth of your embrace, and there was a small smile on his face when he waved back to you, disappearing in the crowd somewhere as everyone gathered their things and left the building.

You only hoped that you would be seeing him again, soon.

Jim returned to you with a lower stuck on his face. "It's time to go home now, come on, it's been a long day," he told you, grabbing your hand in his, and he breathed a sigh of relief when you didn't argue with him. It had been a long day, he was right about that. The car ride home was nearly completely silent, and you knew Jim wanted to say something but he seemed to be holding back. He knew whenever he scolded you about something, it only drove you to pursue it further, so he was conflicted, and it showed with the way his brows were furrowed and how his jaw was clenched. You read the look on his face perfectly though, he wanted to tell you to stay away from that circus boy and from this case, but he refrained from saying so. He merely bit his tongue.

When you two made it back home, you quickly tried to flee to your room but Jim immediately grabbed your arm before you were able to make it upstairs. You whipped your head back when he said, "Where do you think you're going?"

"To my bedroom. I'm tired, long day," you told him with a forced smile.

"You need to listen when I say stay out of this. I know you care, and want to help me but it's too dangerous. I don't trust a single one of them, not until I find out all the facts," he stated dourly.

"You want me to keep away from Jerome, correct? Not everyone in Gotham is pure evil, Dad, there's still some good people left. And he didn't kill his mother, I saw the look in his eyes, there's not a doubt in my mind that he had anything to do with it," you reasoned, your tone just as uncompromising as his was.

"I trust your judgment, and I'm not accusing him of anything, I'm just saying stay aware, you can't let your guard down for a second in this city," he replied, his voice remaining solemn.

"Yes, I remember," you replied in a whisper before you asserted, "I just still want to believe the good in people too."

"Yeah, I know. It's what makes you such a good person. I just think you should let me handle this alone. I promise I'll find out who killed Lila," he assured before letting go of your arm.

"Of course you will," you answered with a nod of your head before walking upstairs. You stopped in your tracks to add, "Look, I'm not going to stay out of this. It's not right what happened to him. He's broken because someone decided to kill his mother, so we have to bring this person to justice."

"Right," he agreed. "Just rest up, take things easy, that's the least you can do for now."

He heard the door slam shortly after he said that, and you collapsed on your bed, allowing yourself to lounge as your mind wandered off to the ginger you met today. There was only one thing you were absolutely certain of regarding this case: He didn't do it. He was innocent.

Little did you know that wasn't true.

As soon as night fell, you were fast asleep, unbeknownst to you that Jim wasn't home. He was down at the precinct with a certain boy you met earlier that day. All it took was a little persuasion on Leslie's part to interrupt their dinner and get him out of the house to head to Arkham Bridge Park because she solved the blind man's message about Lila she heard back at the precinct. He couldn't have been more grateful to her that she convinced him to go as he watched Jerome unravel his facade piece by piece, each word dripping with venom while he spoke of his mother. There wasn't a shred of remorse in him as he explained how she kept pushing until he met his limit. All of a sudden the circus boy who claimed to love his mother was nowhere to be found. It was all part of an elaborate ploy. Leslie stood next to Jim as the ginger confessed with his father in the chair beside him, banging his fist down on the table, the noise resounding in the small room as he burst out in a fit of maniacal laughter.

When his cackling finally ceased, he brought up someone he knew would get a rise out of Jim.

"So how do you think that pretty little daughter of yours will take the news, Jimbo? Think she'll be disappointed or does she have a thing for bad boys?" he taunted, a hand on his cheek as he grinned cruelly. Jim's jaw clenched as he gave the ginger a black look, staying silent even though everything was screaming in him not to. Leslie tensed up as she looked at Jim, then back at Jerome, the room becoming more than unsettling.

"Boy, whatever would I do if I got my hands on her?" he asked himself, "Oops, I meant when I get my hands on her," he corrected himself before he directed the question to Jim, "Would you like me to share? Trust me, you're gonna want to hear this one."

Jim didn't answer, only glowering at him, which instantly amused Jerome, making him chuckle darkly in response.

"Don't you worry, Jimbo, I wouldn't make her do anything that she's not already willing to do, or else that would take the fun out of it," Jerome mocked. "She'd love what I have in store for her, that I can promise. I'd make her my toy, someone that I play with whenever I'm feeling bored," he added with another laugh.

"You can't do anything, I'm sending you to Arkham, where you belong, because you're insane," Jim piped, eyes narrowed as he kept them focused on the ginger before him.

He simply ignored what Jim said before he continued on, "Hm, let's see," he mused, "the first thing I would tell her to do for me is to get on her knees. I know she'd look even prettier like that, and then for her to choke on my-"

Before Jerome could speak another word, Jim stood from his chair and swung his fist in the ginger's face, and he was about to pull another punch but Leslie rushed to pull him back. "Jim, he's just trying to get a rise out of you, don't give him what he wants!" she exclaimed, bringing Jim back to his senses with her hold on him. Jerome's head rolled back with the force of the blow, holding onto his nose as he went, cracking up as the blood trickled down his nostrils.

"I swear to God, Jerome, if you ever lay a finger on her, I'll kill you," Jim hissed, the words coming straight from his throat. "I'm going to make damn sure you stay in Arkham until your hair turns to grey."

"Somehow I doubt that, but maybe that's just me," Jerome replied with a loud chuckle, "go ahead and take me away officer. I've been caught red-handed," he said before removing his bloodied hands from his face and holding them up in front of his chest, guffawing all the more at his own joke. Jim cuffed him and then ordered one of the other officers to drive him down to Arkham because he was not about to hear more of his mockery.

Shortly after Jerome was sent off to Arkham, you went down to the station after waking up and realizing that Jim and Leslie weren't home. Neither of them would answer their phone so this was your next option. You asked around for Jim was, and they informed you that he was in the interrogation room with someone, that didn't sit well with you. You knew something must have came up, and you hoped that whatever happened, Jerome would be okay and that justice would be served, that whoever killed his mother was going to be locked away for life.

Jim came out along with Leslie by his side, his brows knit and a frown on his face when his eyes met yours across the room. He made his way over to you before he asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you were asleep. What did I tell you about leaving the house at night?"

"What came up?" you asked point blank, ignoring everything else he said while crossing your arms over your chest.

Jim sighed before he answered, knowing that you weren't going to want to hear this, but still he wasn't going to keep the truth from you. "Jerome killed his mother, Y/N. He admitted it in there. Leslie dragged me out to Arkham Bridge Park-"

"Are you serious? He did it? That's what he said?" you cut him off, emitting a small gasp in response to the news, completely stunned, clasping your hand over your mouth before you added, "He admitted that he killed her?"

Sometimes you would catch Jim in a lie, but it was only when he was trying to protect you, and when it came to matters like these, he told you nothing but the truth, so as much as you didn't want to believe it, as much as you tried to deny it, you knew he was dead serious.

"Yes, and he didn't have any remorse for what he did. He was laughing about it, like it was all some kind of big joke. His whole act was a facade, he thought he could get away with it. He's going to be sent to Arkham, where he belongs. Thank God, he didn't do anything to you, I would have-"

You embraced Jim, setting your arms around his back as you held him close to you, your eyes watering up at the very corners as you sought your father's comfort. You were shocked to say the least, knowing that the killer was in plain sight the entire time, how he manipulated you with his crocodile tears, and it made you start to wonder if you could really trust anyone in this city.

When you let go of Jim, straightaway you hugged Leslie, and she wrapped her arms around you as she leaned to peck your cheek. "We're just so glad you're okay, that's all we care about."

You turned to look at Jim with glistening eyes, and it was on the tip of your tongue to admit that Jim was right about seeing them all as suspects, that he was right but you couldn't bring yourself to say it when you were choked up so all you managed was, "What else did he say? Did he say why he did it?"

"Doesn't matter, what matters is that he's going to be locked up behind bars, where he won't be able to hurt you. I swear to God, I will never let him anywhere near you," he promised in an earnest tone.

You nodded your head at that, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill through, and you were rendered speechless because this wasn't the kind of news you ever expected to hear. He really did have you fooled, and that was a bitter pill to swallow.


	2. He's A Killer

You tried to go on with your life like normal, going to school, doing your homework when you got home, hanging out with your friends, staying up late watching movies, anything to distract you. Anything to keep your mind off of that circus boy. Especially on long, lonely nights where you had plenty of time to think to yourself, he seemed to creep in every dark corner of your mind, mostly just taunting you, about how easily he fooled you into feeling sorry for him. You could hear the sound of his maniacal laughter from the way Jim explained it, though you had trouble picturing it because he didn't seem capable of it in the slightest but despite your denial of it at first, it was true. You recalled the way his mother's body looked, how it was hacked and slashed in such a brutal, merciless manner. He could have done the same to you if he desired, and the thought of it was enough to keep you awake all night, unable to find sleep no matter how much you needed it. You didn't know how you could have been so blind. You gathered whatever you could from the reports on the ginger, as much as they hurt you when you read each one describing how much he was sick of his mother's constant pestering and bitching, and how he would have done it again and again if he could. She sounded nothing like the woman he described.

The logical way to handle this would have been blaming yourself for having gotten so close to him on that day, wishing that you wouldn't have stuck your nose in his business, that you didn't comfort him. He was a remorseless killer. Yet, the longer you were away from him, the more you yearned to see him again. He had a hold on you, one that you didn't think you would be able to shake, and you weren't even sure if you wanted to. The thought of him consumed you whole, until there wasn't room for anything else, and you fought it for as long as you could until you finally learned to accept it, to allow him to torment you. More times than you could count, you were tempted to see him back at Arkham, so that maybe he could explain his side of the story to you, maybe there was more to it, maybe she pushed him to that breaking point-

No, you weren't going there. You were not going to make any excuses for a murderer. You couldn't go to Arkham to see him, because if Jim had found out that you did-

No, you couldn't go because of who he was, how he lied to you again and again, how he manipulated you into feeling sympathy for him with those crocodile tears. You wanted to see him the way you viewed all criminals in Gotham, the scum of the earth, and you were sure that the ginger fit that category, but the problem was admitting that to yourself. He was no different from them. You just had to keep reminding yourself that he was a psychopathic killer, to embed it into your brain that he could have done the same to you or your father. But he didn't. That was something that continually popped up in your mind. He didn't. Maybe there was a reason for that.

You felt something with him, something you couldn't seem to describe, something that you didn't ever feel with anyone else. The worst part of this all was the deep, wrenching pull of lust in the pit of your stomach that persisted without restraint. For some strange reason, you wanted him. You didn't understand why, but you did. There was more to him than just a pretty face, and you were intrigued by him, by the way he spoke to you, his lingering touch, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, there was an undeniable spark between you two, or at least that was what you thought anyway. You were convinced that everything he told you was a lie, so you were just fantasizing about the idea of him that you made up in your head, and you didn't know who that was exactly but what you did know was that you wanted to learn more about the person Jim interrogated, the side he didn't unveil to you.

Jim and Leslie never dared to mention his name, though you couldn't help but get the feeling that they were breathing down your neck. Because of the incident at the circus, they were spending every possible second they could with you whenever they came home from work, it was becoming a little overbearing but you figured that was a normal reaction when you had been so close to a killer just days before. You weren't going to complain though, you caused enough trouble by getting involved with him in the first place.

Time seemed to move very slowly, even though you were keeping yourself busy with anything that served to be a distraction, still it wasn't enough. Nothing was. Not when that circus boy was still haunting you. Fortunately no one could tell something was bothering you because you always forced a smile on your face, but at night the mask fell off, and you started to wonder if it was possible to move on your life without just seeing him one more time. As much as you tried to erase the image of him from your mind, it didn't work. It was starting to feel like he would always be there, and he wasn't going to ever leave. You were practically at his mercy finding ways out of this disturbance of yours.

Your friends were staying over one night, and you were all having a sleepover because Jim preferred it when you stayed in at this time of the day. They were talking about their usual everyday problems when something else came up. Something you preferred that you didn't hear.

"Did you hear about that circus boy who killed his mother?"

"Yeah I did! The criminals in this city are getting worse, it's like you can't trust anybody."

"I know! He was so gorgeous, too. I guess the new thing is to look out for the cute boys in this city."

You remained silent, looking through a magazine to see if you could distract him with another one of those silly quizzes.

"Hey, you went to Haly's Circus with Mr. Gordon, right? That was where the murder took place. Did you meet him?" one of them asked far more enthusiastically than she should have. "His name was Jerome."

"He wasn't in the big show, so no, not that I recall," you lied, continuing to flip through the pages of the magazine.

"That's a shame. He looks like the kind of guy who would sneak off with you and take you behind the bushes!" she giggled, sighing dreamily, and your other friend nudged her in the elbow for not taking the situation seriously. "What? I'm just trying to make light of the situation!"

"Are you sure you didn't see him? Jim obviously did, and you were with him the whole night," the other added.

"No I didn't, can we please stop talking about him?" you objected, rolling your eyes in annoyance when they didn't notice.

"Well it's really scary. He's around our age, someone who we could potentially go to school with, and you went to that exact circus the day someone was murdered, it is a big deal. The news reports said that he killed his mother because she was a nagging bitch," she explained as she scooted closer to your side on the floor.

"He's crazy, a psychopath, a killer. That's why he was sent to Arkham. I really don't want to talk about this before bed, okay? Please drop it," you pleaded, and your friends were stunned for a moment on the sharp tone of your voice.

"Fine, subject dropped. Don't know why it's so touchy," she said, the one who had been making a complete joke of this issue.

The rest of the night was a little awkward after you all did a couple more quizzes in the magazines and gossiped some about what was happening in your school. When they left you were relieved because the last thing you wanted to talk about was the ginger, especially to people who didn't seem to understand, and they had only reminded you of him and everything you had been trying to avoid.

When you walked with them to leave, Leslie saw your scowl from across the room before you slammed the door.

"Something the matter?" she asked with a raise of her eyebrows, a soft frown on her face.

"No not really," you answered back, but she clearly could tell that wasn't the case, she was a doctor after all.

"I kind of overheard what happened," she admitted, running a hand through her hair before she crossed her arms.

"You did?" you asked, emitting a drawn-out sigh afterwards.

"You can talk to me, you know, about what happened. I thought you might have needed some time so I haven't mentioned it, but I just want you to know that I'm here for you, as your mom, not a doctor if that's what you want," she assured with a tender, motherly smile.

You stood silent before you returned one her way, though it died quickly as you simply nodded your head. "I'm still upset with myself for not seeing it. That's all."

"No one blames you for that, you did what you thought was best, and we're just glad you're alright, that he didn't hurt you," she said, walking over to hold your face to her chest as she hugged you close. You were thankful for the hug because she couldn't see the way your face twisted into a frown. You were feeling a mix of emotions, ones that mostly didn't make sense. You still couldn't piece together why you were more angry with yourself than him, when you were the victim here. It was strange to miss someone who you only knew based on a lie, and all you could think about was how the last thing he said to you was that you two would see each other again, you wondered if that was a lie too. You hoped it wasn't.

"I think the doctor side to you came out when you were with him, you thought you could help, make things better if he had you to talk to," she started as she ran her hands through your hair, stroking it with gentle fingers. You weren't even listening to anything she was saying, it was all going in one ear out the other, because all you could think about was him. You realized you weren't truly upset with him, as long as it meant that he would live up to his promise and find a way back to you. As crazy as that sounded. You started not to care about what he did, you just wanted to see him again.

"Maybe," you added with a slight shrug of your shoulders before you told her, "I just know that I caused some trouble for you and dad, and I really didn't mean to."

"Hey, don't go there with me, okay? I won't allow it," she scolded in that motherly voice of hers as she cradled the back of your head, making you face her now. "You didn't cause any trouble. You were trying to help. It's not your fault, he had us all fooled," she disagreed, leaning in to peck the crease in your forehead. "Okay?" she repeated.

"Okay," you answered with a tight-lipped smile.

"Good, it's settled then," she replied before embracing you once more. Shortly afterwards you two stood up late just watching movies together, and somewhere in the midst of it you forgot your troubles during those silly comedies until you both fell asleep.

The next afternoon when you came home from school, you found yourself flipping through channels on the TV in your boredom, wanting a distraction from those dreadful upcoming exams you had to study for. When you finally settled on a channel, then came on the news.

"Breaking news! There has been a breakout at Arkham Asylum where six inmates escaped. Their whereabouts are not known yet, but the police are doing everything they can to track them down. We do not have the name of the culprit who broke them out, but the staff at the asylum was assailed with sleeping gas," the newswoman stated, and your eyes widened as you listened on to what she was saying.

"If you have any information concerning the six inmates, contact the GCPD immediately," she added with a deadpan expression as the mugshots of the inmates started to appear on the screen, "The following inmates' names are: Robert Greenwood, Arnold Dobkins, Barbara Kean, Aaron Helzinger, Richard Sionis, and Jerome Valeska."

Jerome Valeska. That was the only name you heard. He got out.


	3. Miss Me?

You scrambled to find your phone through your bag on the couch, cursing under your breath about how you forgot to turn the sound back on, and when you pulled it out, there was over twenty missed calls from Jim along with Leslie. When the phone rang again, you quickly answered it.

"I've been trying to reach you for so long, are you okay?" he asked in an urgent tone.

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm okay," you reassured him, and he breathed a sigh of relief the second he heard your voice.

"Thank God you're okay," he sounded assuaged for a moment before he added, "there's been a breakout at Arkham. Six inmates escaped," he started, pausing briefly, "one of them was Jerome. Please tell me you're at home," he said, and it was evident how overwrought he was.

"Yes, I'm home," you answered.

"Good, now please just stay where you are. Don't go anywhere," he implored, "the police will be outside the apartment any moment now, so you're gonna be fine. I swear I won't let anything happen to you," he promised, yet his voice was still thick with dread.

"Okay, I'll stay where I am. Please be careful, Dad, I love you," you told him earnestly.

"I love you too, I'll be there as soon as I can," he assured before he hung up the phone.

A moment after your phone call with Jim ended, Leslie was calling, and you answered it immediately, reassuring her that you were okay and that Jim was going to have the police posted outside the building. She sounded hysterical. She told you to stay on the phone with her until they showed up. You paced around and around until they finally did, the police sirens blaring as the cars crowded just outside. When she finally hung up, you sat back on the sofa in front of the living room. You were shaking, your knees knocking against one another, lower lip quivering, heart pounding rapidly in your chest as you stared blankly across the room.

You realized you didn't fear for your life, no, instead there was a strong feeling of anticipation, which was the strangest thing. You were practically vibrating with excitement. You wanted to see him, and you knew there was something very wrong about that. This was what you had been waiting for, as much as you couldn't bring yourself to admit that. You had to convince yourself that it wasn't true, that you were just as scared as the next person about these news. He was a murderer. How many times were you going to tell yourself that?

You raced back to the window, taking a peek through the blinds to see if the police was still there. They were. You were safe. It was all going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. There was no way that any of the escapees would break in here with the police protecting you.

"Miss me, gorgeous?"

A familiar voice said from behind you, though it wasn't anything like the way it was before, it was ominous, threatening, no longer timid or soft-spoken, much more sure of itself. You whipped your head back and gasped upon seeing the ginger stepping out of your kitchen and standing before you in your living room, your breath hitching. You clasped your hands over your mouth, and he merely laughed at your reaction, grinning menacingly as he started to slowly approach you. His gaze slid from your eyes to your mouth, registering the slight tremble in your bottom lip; it flickered over every part of you. He wasn't ashamed to let you see him drink you in, catching his tongue between his teeth for an instant before it was dampening his lips and in turn - though involuntarily, you didn't hide the way your breath shook as you inhaled. There was no way to disguise the fact that you were committing every destructively beautiful area of his face to memory: sloping nose with a white-toothed grin beneath it, those sharp cheekbones of his, the loose strand of auburn hair falling over his forehead, you didn't ever want to forget it.

How did he get in? He must have came up the fire escape and through the kitchen window, somehow. You couldn't believe it. All those nights thinking about him, how you wished he would come back, and here he was. Deep down, you weren't surprised nor fearful. You got a strange sense that he wasn't here to kill you, and you were simply impressed with his bold move of showing up in your home, however you weren't going to let Jerome see that.

Your hands slowly dropped from your mouth when there was hardly a distance between you two, and your back accidentally bumped up against the wall as you stepped back and he followed.

"I said, did you miss me?" he asked again, voice no higher than a hypnotically low murmur, his grin widening as he leaned close to you, body brushing against yours tauntingly before he pulled back, not daring to press himself against you. "A promise is a promise, doll. Since it's been so long, I was hoping for at least a 'hello' or 'I've missed you', that's just good manners, you know," he mocked.

"No," you managed through a stutter, "no, no I didn't," you repeated, trying to convince yourself once more that was true.

"Why? Is it because you're scared of me, now?" he asked, tilting his head to the side with a mock-pout, and you didn't meet his piercing gaze, turning away as a shiver ran down your spine because he was so close. "Where's that girl who raced to comfort me in my trailer? Huh? I bet that girl misses me," he reminded. "C'mon, let me talk to her. I know she wants me," he cooed before more of his roguish laughter spilled out.

"You're a killer, Jerome," you told him in a whisper, willing your voice to remain steady.

"Yeah I heard that too, it's a pretty accurate analysis I agree," he taunted with a dark, boisterous laugh as he inched his face closer to yours, allowing that small space between you two to be swallowed up. "How does it feel to be this close to one?" he questioned as he ran his long fingers down the pulse in your throat, his eyes locked on yours, those black pits staring deep within your own, and it made a spike of adrenaline shoot through your body, your heart thudding in anticipation, in lust. You leaned back against the wall, consumed by heat, from the tips of your toes to the palms of your hands. You were burning up at the sight of him, and it was a wonder that you didn't dissolve into ashes before him.

You didn't answer, remaining silent because you couldn't give up the impression that this was what you wanted, for him to come here. You were scared, scared for your life like everyone else was, there wasn't any part of you that longed for this moment. He was tracing odd patterns on the hollow of your neck, humming appreciatively while he did. He was mesmerizing, from the way the side of his mouth curved into a smile to the slip of his tongue over his lower lip, nose crinkling in amusement as you stared back at him in what he thought might have been awe.

"Aw, are you still mad at me for lying to you? Did Jim tell you everything before I was sent to Arkham?" he jested with a chuckle, "I didn't lie about everything. As I recall, I did say we would see each other again, and well, here I am."

"The police are just outside, I'll scream for them if you try any-"

"Tell me dollface, how are you going to scream if your neck is split open? You'll be too busy choking on your own blood," he teased in a raspy voice, cackling as if this was all some big joke. Your eyes widened upon his words, swallowing a thick gulp at that, your body taut with tension. You were crazy to want to see him again if that was what he was going to do. You should have known better. He pressed his body into yours just that slightest bit when he continued, "I'm kidding, sweet cheeks, can't you take a joke? I ain't gonna kill you," he laughed again, before muttering under his breath, "not yet anyway."

"Again, kidding," he added with a vile smile that didn't quite reach his eyes when he saw you make a move to try and slip away from him. He wrapped a fist around both of your wrists before holding them above your head on the wall, locking them in place, making you flinch underneath him. "Learn how to take a joke. I'm not here for that."

Your phone started ringing in the pocket of your skirt and the sound of it instantly made him scowl. "Don't answer that," he hissed the order out, and it wasn't like you had any choice but to ignore the call as the tune continued. "Well it's not like you could even if you wanted to," he jeered.

"What do you want, Jerome?" you asked, voice shaking as you spoke.

"That's a good question, doll, what do I want? Personally I think it's more of a who than a what, but we can go with that too, if that works for you," he smiled wickedly with a devilish gleam in his eyes, and he leaned his mouth close to the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning against the skin there. Your whole body shivered with it, and you found your body instinctively inching closer to his own as you mentally cursed yourself for it.

You knew it was wrong, in every sense of the word, but you couldn't help it. You wanted him. You had it so bad for him, ever since that day you meant him, despite his lies and all the awful, disturbing truths about him. You still wanted him. You didn't know what that made you.

"Do you want me to spell it out for you?" he questioned in a rasp, and you nodded your head in response almost instantly. "You got it," he replied, dropping your wrists down before whipping out a scalpel out from his pocket, bringing it in close proximity to your face for a brief moment. He twirled it in his hand flippantly before he lifted up your blouse to reveal your stomach, and you emitted a loud whine in protest, shaking your head rapidly. This was what you were trying to tell yourself the whole time. That this was what he would do if he came back. He would kill you, rip you open piece by piece, slice you all over until he was satisfied, because this was who he was. A monster. He pressed the cool steel of the blade so that it was just laying on your skin, only poking with the edge of it briefly before he pulled it away, leaving your body completely unscathed. "Relax, dollface! What did I just say about taking a simple joke?"

You breathed a sigh of relief before you whispered under a harsh breath, "You're crazy. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with me. I just don't take life as seriously as you do, or like the bozos who actually believe they can protect you," he motioned his head over to the window where the cops were outside as he slipped the scalpel back in his pocket. "So why don't we head to my place? You know, where there won't be a ton of clown cars outside the building," he joked, that grin still stuck on his face. "That way I can show you, what do you say?"

"I'm not going anywhere," you replied, your tone lacking any sort of conviction.

"I won't take no for an answer," he rasped, his voice dripping with venom, "so I guess that means you're stuck with me," he added, his tone switching to one that was much more calm, you didn't understand how he could change his emotions on a whim.

There was a inner voice in the back of your head, screaming not to go with him, to put up a fight, to where he would have to force you against your will because like he said he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Maybe that was the thrilling part of it. You were not about to comply and just go with whatever he wanted. You were stronger than that. You didn't want him. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.

"Okay," you managed, silencing the voice in your head with that one word of complete and utter compliance.

His grin grew wider at that, if that was even possible before he grabbed your hand in his, lifting it up to his mouth before he planted a soft kiss on the skin. "As you wish, m'lady," he said in a sing-song tone, laughing as he took you out of the apartment through the window he came in through. He made his way down the fire escape with you, holding your hand tight in his own. "Oh, that's right, just wait here, this won't take long," he told you in a hum, leaving you by your lonesome on the staircase as he skipped his way off of it, joining the floor where all the police cars were lined up.

"Freeze! Put your hands in the air!" a cop shouted, and the others brought out their guns, all of them pointing at the ginger's direction. He cackled in response, managing to flee in the nick of time when they fired. He whipped his gun out and shot the officers down one by one as he stayed behind one of the cars, wounding some while others weren't so fortunate. He stepped away from the vehicle once he knew he had the advantage, spinning and twirling as he fired his gun, as if it was a toy. The shrill sound of the gunshots pierced your ears, making your whole body tremble violently as you covered them and cowered with your eyes shut tight. You couldn't see this.

This was crazy. What were you thinking? Did you expect that he would let them live? That he still had some kind of human decency left in him? What were you doing? You couldn't willingly go with this maniac, or else that would mean you were just as crazy as him. Before you could make a move to bolt out of there, he was already back and clasping your hand in his once again.

"C'mon, it's time to get the hell out of here before more of those shitheads show up," he barked before he added, "and now we've got a ride," he winked.


	4. You're Mine

Jerome shoved you in the backseat of the stolen car with a blindfold tied around your face and handcuffs binding your wrists (thanks to one of the police officers) before he got in the front seat, slamming the door shut.

"Get these off of me!" you yelled out, handcuffs clinking as you shook them in protest.

"Wouldn't want you squealing on me to that great ol' detective Jimbo where I'm staying at," he said with an amused cackle before adding, "sorry," with a deadpan expression and then he started the engine and drove off with a wild swivel. The roaring of the tires dragging against the road pierced your ears, making you flinch involuntarily, and you were not surprised to find out that he was such a reckless driver. Your heartbeat was hammering in your chest, skin prickling with fear, and you writhed about in your seat, wishing that you could break free from your restraints. This was wrong. This was all wrong. You couldn't understand why you willingly went with him, how you allowed yourself to get in this mess, fully knowing what kind of person he was. Nothing you did seemed to make sense when you were with him, you only had yourself to blame for that.

No one can save you now.

"So how we doin' over there, dollface? Comfy?" he taunted, glancing over his shoulder to look at you before bursting out in laughter.

"You didn't have to kill those cops!" you shouted. You were sure you knew some of those police officers, some of them would take you home, and look after you when Jim wasn't around. Now they were dead because of him.

"Aw but what would be the fun in letting them live? C'mon, I'm sure you were tired of those shitheads too, you should be thanking me," he told you as he gazed at you through the rear-view mirror, his eyes twinkling as a wicked smile stretched across his face.

"You can't-" you cut yourself off for a moment to swallow a thick gulp, a frown on your face as you stared at nothing but gloom, "you can't just kill people whenever you feel like it! Our lives are not some game for your amusement."

"Well that's nice and dandy," he commented with a shake of his head, "and last I checked, you can't tell me what to do, lil-detective-in-training. If you want my advice, I highly recommend that you don't follow in your father's footsteps, doesn't seem like it'll suit you much, consider your options first, maybe test the waters with me before you decide on that boring ass occupation," he jested, and you whined in response to that.

You knew there was nothing you could do to get out of this situation, and what scared you was you weren't sure if you even wanted to, that was the worst part.

It wasn't a long drive, yet it felt like it because you were restrained, and you had to listen to several terrible jokes from the ginger on the way there. Though, before you knew it, the car stopped and you were just thankful it was over because you didn't know how many more reckless twists and turns you could take of being pushed back and forward into your seat.

"You gonna behave now, doll?" he asked as he yanked you out of the car, tugging on your arm before he got you on your feet and shut the door. When you only muttered under your breath in response, he shook his head before guiding you inside of the penthouse. "Just follow my lead, and don't pay attention to them," he told you with a puff of a laugh, motioning his head over to a direction that you couldn't see, and when he realized this he guffawed again. Almost instantly you were greeted by whistles and you could feel several pairs of eyes leering at you as Jerome held onto your arm and walked by them.

"You better share her, Jerome! Don't be greedy!" one of the men roared, the sound of his shrilling voice made you wince, and suddenly you were grateful for the blindfold.

"Yeah, yeah, get your own, Greenwood," Jerome told him in a hiss. You merely stood silent, not wanting to say anything to provoke the other psychopaths living here, yet you found yourself turning your head to every jeer and high-pitched sounds of approval, and it made you feel sick.

When you heard a door open and the clicking sound of it being shut, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You were left waiting for a few brief moments before the ginger stepped forward and whipped the key from his pocket, unlocking your handcuffs and pulling them off your wrists in one quick motion, setting it aside with a clink. He reached his hands up to untie the piece of fabric wrapped around your face, humming as he did. You blinked your eyes, trying to adjust to the light that filled the room. When you glanced around, you were quick to notice the floor-length windows where the sun beamed from outside as well as the king-sized fluffy bed across from you, the soft carpet at your feet that you seemed to just sink into, everything about the penthouse was the definition of luxury.

"The guy who broke us out of that shithole is letting me stay here, so this all belongs to me," he told you with a smug smile playing on his lips.

"I need to go back home, I can't be here with you," you objected, making your way to the door but he stopped you by grabbing onto your arm again.

"Nuh-uh, you're not going anywhere dollface," he said with a laugh, "do you have any idea what I risked to come and get you?" he added with a mock-pout.

"You're a killer, Jerome! You're sick in the head and you need some serious help, you were supposed to stay in Arkham, you shouldn't be here," you quavered, a glower on your face when you turned back to him.

He narrowed his eyes at your words, a look on his face that you couldn't quite read, and you tried to twist your arm away from him but his hold only tightened when you did. "You've got a big mouth, dollface, why don't you put that mouth to better use, huh?" he remarked and in one abrupt motion he pulled you tight to his chest, the space between you two was now eaten up by his body.

You lifted your hand up in an attempt to smack him but he immediately grasped your wrist and held it firmly at the side of your head, your fingers twitching as you tried to break free from his grip. His laugh was low and silky, eyes crinkling in amusement as you continued to glare at him and with his other hand he tipped your chin up, holding it where he wanted it to be. You were gone for, done for, a mess with weak knees and a body that didn't know what to do with itself except willingly give into him. You two just stared at one each other in silence, your face softening up, and when he was sure you weren't going to try anything he let go of your wrist. He reached his hand out to rest it on your hip, curling his fingers around it in a move that leaked possession into your skin.

"I-" you cut yourself off before you added in a voice barely above a whisper that lacked any sort of conviction, "I shouldn't be here."

"You shouldn't be here, but you are, and this is exactly where you want to be. Don't you act like I brought you here against your will, you want me, just like I want you, plain and simple," he cooed with a dangerous smirk on his face, his breath fanning against your lips as he spoke. "And there's nothing wrong with that, stop thinking so much, it's gonna be the death of you someday," he told you, and there was a rasp to his voice that danced between lust and something unidentifiable in the state you were in. "So, why don't we cut to the chase, aye doll? You don't have to follow your daddy's orders all the time, I'm not going to hurt you, that's been established. I can play nice, you know, there's so much you don't know about me, yet," he added as his hand settled on your hip. "Don't deny this connection we have, I know you feel it too," he said, his tone a mix of mockery with somewhat of a fondness.

You were in for so much trouble. You turned your head away to avert from his gaze, lower lip quivering as your mind replayed the words he said over and over again. Maybe there was no point in thinking so much if you already knew what the outcome was going to be. Maybe there was no point in trying to act like you didn't want this when your whole body was itching for it, craved it for longer than you wanted to admit. Maybe-

The next thing you knew he was kissing you, perfectly fitting his mouth along the curves of your own. The suddenness of it took you aback, and he was practically tearing you apart with his kiss, full mouthed, damp, messy and hard, as hard as you could feel he was as you were pressed back into the wall with a noisy thud that rung in the room. Hip to hip, a leg planted between your thighs to keep them apart, and your fingers were in his hair before you had a chance to overthink all of this.

He started nipping at your lower lip, sucking and tugging it between his teeth while his fingers dug that much harder into your hips. The way his hips rolled forward, fluid and forceful made your hands instantly become fists in his auburn hair. He was smiling wickedly against your lips, raising a hand to hold your chin and pulling back just enough to watch you gasp for air, and it took every ounce of your willpower not to whine aloud as he slid his fingers of his other hand along the back of your thighs, squeezing the underside of your ass. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, fondling and groping frantically in his need to touch you.

"You want me," he growled the words out against your neck, and chased all the way up to your ear with a scattering of wet kisses, nips of teeth that had your stomach twisting and a moan bubbling in your throat. "Say it, say you want me."

He pressed his mouth to your jaw, leaving hungry kisses all over the skin as he growled possessively against it. You could feel and hear the way he whispered the words, "you're mine," into your flushed skin again and again, like a mantra. Your entire body was burning for him, and you accepted it, allowed yourself to let go, there was nothing you craved more than his touch. He was setting your skin alight with kitten licks along your collarbones and his palm skirted along the underside of your breasts, fingers so close to your nipples that they hardened just at the proximity. He seemed to enjoy teasing you, which didn't surprise you in the slightest, his eyes lighting with every pleasured sound that escaped your lips. He was in control, just like you knew he would be.

"Yes, I want you, I want you so fucking bad," you pleaded around a series of soft gasps, which instantly made the corners of his lips tug upwards into a devilish grin. He had barely done anything to you and you were trembling and panting. You could feel just how wet you were with the way your panties clung to your skin, but you were not in the state of mind to be ashamed of that fact.

"Who knew you had such a potty mouth, I thought you were a good girl," he mocked, and you were far too gone now to say anything in return to that. His lower body was pressing into your stomach, and just beneath it, you could feel the weight of his member warm and heavy against you, making your heart beat hard in your chest in anticipation. He had you completely at his mercy, it was almost impossible to resist the urge to drop off the tips of your toes and grind down onto his thigh, so desperate for friction against your pulsating clit.

Jerome pulled his thigh from between your legs suddenly, fingers stilling at the edge of your panties underneath your skirt, and you swallowed a groan of frustration down because you just needed him to touch you there, where you were aching for him. Your hands reached out to cling to his shirt, which was the wrong move, or maybe the right one. Either way it was the movement that had the ginger twisting his hand into your hair hard enough to make you gasp and you didn't fight the shock of fear, the jolt of lust that followed, it was so much better to let him guide your head from left to right, a moan dribbling out of your mouth as he finally pulled your head downwards before whispering, "You made such a mess, dollface, what am I to do with you?"

He rolled your skirt up with his free hand, his tongue darting out of his mouth when he saw a patch of wetness formed on your silky panties, and you almost felt embarrassed but you found that it was difficult through your haze of desire for him. Jerome's eyes were dark, glistening nearly black and your mouth watered at the sight of his index finger dragging straight across the damp spot in the center before it snuck underneath the material, rolling back and forth when he probed past your folds, coating the length of it with your arousal. He kept his hand wrapped tight around your hair and he pulled his other hand away, flicking his tongue over his wet finger before popping it in his mouth and humming in contentment from the taste. He sucked on it eagerly, whispering, "You're so fucking sweet," around the tip as he let it slip from his mouth, eyes hooded as he looked down at you.

His pupils were overblown, wide and so focused on your own that it was almost too much to look at him, but you didn't want to turn away. You wanted to capture and frame every detail of his face from the splashes of pink in his cheeks to the swollen curve of his mouth to his hair, messed from your fingers and slung forward in a tangled heap, and mostly, you wanted to kiss him, so hard that there was blood and pain, you believed that was what you deserved after all for giving yourself up to this mad man. There was a thrill to being with him, as bad as that sounded, but you couldn't help it, you were drawn to him. He made it difficult to think of the consequences when he was looking at you as though he just caught his prey that he had been hunting for all this time and now he finally captured it, his eyes lighting up with dark intent at the sight of your meek body. You were all his, attached to him by invisible strings from every inch of your body as it arched and shook.

He was snarling, it was rippling in his throat and rumbling against your neck as he nipped and licked and bit, then there wasn't even a moment to breathe in before he was kissing you so hard that your stomach flipped, his tongue slipping around aimlessly in your mouth, diving in to claim it as his own. His fingers started brushing your sex, running them along your slit through your panties in lazy little circles just to tease you. Your hips responded before you could even think, rolling back and forth against the tips of his hand in a desperate plea for more. The moment you let a moan slide from your throat, he dipped a finger into your panties, then aligned it to your entrance and then pushed forward. Your taut body stilled in shock as the entire length of his digit disappeared into your body unobstructed.

"That's fucking beautiful," he groaned, curling his finger up into you as far as he could, "and it's all for me," and you couldn't hear if he said anything else because you were too focused on keeping your moans at an acceptable level, trying to stay on your feet but that was almost too much to ask when he was pumping his finger into you hard and slow, a hand now gripping your right hip, tugging it forward so that your clit made contact with his palm, and your eyes rolled back in your head as the sensation overwhelmed you.

"You want me to fuck you? That's what you want, right? For me to fuck your pretty little cunt? To be treated like the cockslut you are? For me to use you however I want, when I want?" he breathed against your lips, and you nodded your head furiously in response, there was nothing you wanted more. You rocked your hips as much as the position would allow you on unsteady ankles, and then in an instant he pulled his finger away with an obscenely wet pop, making you immediately whine at the loss.

"Get on your knees for me, earn it first," he ordered in a rasp, and upon those words you dropped down to your knees, using the downward motion to help tug his pants down around his ankles. His boxers went next, and a smirked crossed his face when he saw you licking your lips as you eyed his fully erect member. You stared at in admiration before you started. Long, thick, and positively aching as you reached for it.

"Wow," you murmured under your breath, leaning forward and dragging your tongue along the very tip. You moaned against it when his length pulsated in your grip, and you were quick to start pumping, slowly stroking his member as you continued to slide your tongue over him. Slow, slithering circles traced around the tip made his thighs lock in place as a hiss escaped through his parted lips.

His breath was heavy as he slammed a hand down on the wall in front of him, head rolling back as you began to lick down his shaft, kissing his member and purring as you indulged in his taste. After giving him a thorough licking, you glided your tongue up from the very base of his cock where his shaft met his balls along the fleshy seam of his underside until you could tilt your head forward and take the tip into your mouth. You purred all around him as you took his cock down, wasting absolutely no time in working him over so he could fuck you afterwards.

"Fuck, you look so pretty with your mouth full," he praised and while you were busy sucking him off, he suddenly pulled a camera out, and it wasn't until you heard the flashing noises when you realized that he was taking pictures of you. "Smile for the camera, dollface," he instructed hoarsely, your eyes peering up and twinkling in response as you bobbed your head up and down, moaning as you pumped rapidly at his length. Pulling your lips back for a quick breather, you smiled as you let his head settle upon your pair, sliding a long stripe across them while you toyed with his shaft. He continued to take more photos, whipping out each polaroid and setting it aside his nightstand with fumbling hands before he dropped the camera back down. Your gaze was directed up at him, lusty and submissive all in one expression.

"That's a good girl, you're taking me so well, fuck, don't stop," he demanded, encouraging you to keep going, and you eagerly obliged him. His hands suddenly reached forward, seizing your hair around a tight fist and pulling your head down, driving you back onto his member. Your eyes widened and you could feel the tugging on your scalp as he dragged your head back and forth, his hips joining in the action to plunge his cock faster and deeper past your lips.

"Touch yourself for me, I want you to come with me," he breathed out. You released his cock altogether, moaning as you reached beneath your skirt, shoving your fingers under your panties and rubbing your slick mound as he continued taking your mouth with abandon.

He lost himself in the wet heat of your mouth wrapped around his rapidly pistoning member, how your face lit up and your lips pushed out a little, forming a tight seal around him as tight as you could get them. The heat and the friction sent bolts of electricity through his entire body, his abdomen rippling and tightening, his cock throbbing and twitching on the warmth of your smooth tongue.

His grip on your hair tightened, and he uttered a groan as he shoved you all the way down, driving your lips against his base as his member ached and throbbed in the back of your throat. He used your hair as leverage as he surged forward, pumping himself in and out of your mouth at a punishing pace that you nearly choked on it, your throat tightening around the engorged skin, but that didn't stop you. Your cheeks hollowed around his length as your mouth engulfed him, relishing in the way his knees were buckling, struggling to keep himself upright as he tugged harder on your hair, directing you wherever he wanted on the length of him.

"You're going to swallow like a good girl for me, you're going to take every last drop, got that?" he ordered in a growl, voice hoarse. You bobbed your head in answer as much as he would allow, and you were circling your clit with wet fingers, rolling it back and forth to seek release with him. With a few more sloppy thrusts of his hips, he came inside your mouth, his fluids splashing against the lining of your throat as you took it down. Your eyes were shut tight as your fingers worked harder and faster against your mound in the process, until finally you joined him in his state of ecstasy, the overwhelming pleasure bearing down upon you in hot waves. You could feel his warm, thick liquid settle down in your stomach after you gulped every drop down just like he told you.

His fingers eased up on your hair as he leaned against the wall, trying to keep balance as he caught his harsh breath. After he gave himself a moment, he pulled your head back until your mouth released his cock with a lewd pop, a vile little smirk playing on his lips. You coughed before you wiped off the mess of saliva that drizzled down your mouth and chin with the back of your hand, throat raw, lips swollen and cheeks flushed as you looked back at him, gathering your breath.

"Get the fuck over here," he rasped, reaching down to hoist you up by your ass in his hands, carrying you as he made his way across to the room before throwing you down on the bed unceremoniously, making you bounce before you dropped down on the comfortable sheets. He was quick to join you on the bed, starting to undress you in a heated frenzy. You lifted your hips when he hooked his fingers in the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down until it met your ankles and you kicked it off onto the floor. Once they were discarded, your panties went the same way, Jerome's shirt following and then yours falling onto the top of the pile. You stared at the auburn hair that covered the top of his chest and the scattered freckles across his smooth, pale skin that you yearned to feel upon yours.

Soon enough there was nothing in the way, and he made his way atop of you. You two slowly shimmied your way up the length of the lavish bed until your head was settled on a pillow and his tip was rubbing against your inner thigh, rocking back and forth, smearing saliva across your skin as you both feverishly kissed.

He wrapped a tight fist around your wrists before pinning them against the bed, tight enough that you were sure it was going to bruise but you didn't care. He shifted one last time atop you to line the tip up against your swollen, aching folds. The way you moaned desperately into his lips made him draw in a sharp breath before he shoved forward, pressing into your wet heat.

All of a sudden, you no longer felt hollow, and nothing filled you up like Jerome did. A loud whimper escaped your lips, head pressing down against the pillow beneath you as your wet inner walls clung onto his every inch. "Oh fuck," you moaned as he sucked on your lower lip, just as quickly pushing into you as he was pulling out, leaving you empty for a brief second before slamming back down into you, eyes clamping close as you adjusted to his girth.

His thrusts made your body shake and quiver, the frantic pace and the strength in his movements had you writhing helplessly underneath him. Each push in pressed his hips to yours and sent a hot wave of pleasure rippling through your body. Your kisses were sloppy and frantic, littered with moans and purrs and cries of his name as your arms struggled a little against the firm grip holding them to the bed.

"Jerome, oh god, Jerome," you cried out, voice shaking as you pleaded for more.

"Yeah that's it, that's exactly who's fucking you," he told you gruffly, hot sweat pooling around the skin of his back as he rammed into you again and again.

Unbeknownst to you, he stole your phone at some point today, and he reached his hand underneath the pillow beside you, searching blindly for the device as he still met every wild movement of your hips.

"Scream my name, keep screaming it, or I'll stop fucking you," he grunted as he worked you over, hips slamming into you as you squirmed and twisted on the sheets while he had his way with you. With your eyes closed, you didn't see when he redialed your dad's number, waiting for him to pick up and when Jerome heard his voice, he set the phone down on the bedside table.

"Y/N! Thank God, where are you?" Jim answered the phone from the other end, heaving a sigh of relief that he finally got a call back after several failed attempts.

"Jerome!" you whimpered, your slick walls clenching down around his member as his grip on your wrists tightened, it was painful and territorial, driven by the urge to keep you as close as possible against him, and you found that you didn't mind in the slightest through the blissful haze.

"Eyes on me now, babygirl," he instructed, and your eyes snapped open upon his words immediately. You gazed into those dark eyes that pierced your own, how they were gleaming with malicious intent mixed with a feral lust. "That's it, fuck, your cunt feels so good around me, such a good girl for me," he told you in a growl, and he made sure to pound into you that much harder, the creaking of the bed against the wall along with your pleas for more mixed in with his name was more than enough to drown out the sound of Jim's yelling on the phone.

"Don't stop, please don't stop!" you begged, legs hooking around his waist as you continued to press your lips against him, losing yourself more and more in the ensuing ecstasy. Your whole body was on fire, and you needed it as hard and as fast as you could get it. Your hips started to rock off the bed, sloppy in pace amid all the pleasure, yet relentless and frantic, trying to keep him deep inside of you at all times. It drove Jerome to change the position, releasing your wrists and reaching down for the small of your back as his knees dug into the bed, preparing himself.

He pulled you up to place you on his lap, and you were quick to press yourself down so he could fill you once more. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as his own grip found purchase on your ass, holding you upright as he started to thrust upward into you, and you were more than eager to bounce atop his member, each downward motion of your body aided by gravity to push down harder against him.

"Fuck yourself on my cock, yeah, just like that," he urged, and you bit your lower lip when his face dove toward your shoulder, planting a flurry of hungry kisses down against your neck. One hand moved up to run through his hair while the other pressed your fingertips into his back. His lips kissed, teeth nipped, his tongue hot and wet as it flicked over your neck. He leaned in to sink his teeth down on your neck, hard enough to pierce the sensitive skin, and you whined at the sting that followed. Every time he left a welt on your skin, he was sure to soothe it with the warmth of his tongue. He wanted to mark you, and you didn't care in the slightest as he filled you from underneath.

"Fuck, so good, oh Jerome," you repeated his name through breathy whimpers, head thrown back as you sunk up and down on him in a heated rhythm. Now that you weren't pinned to the bed you could let each wave of pleasure run through you by rolling through it all, arching your back and shuddering. Your moans picked up in volume when he grasped your hips and pushed you down so that he was buried to the hilt with his bruising hold on you. There was a violence and urgency to his movements, and it was anything but soft.

"From now on, you're my pet, and I get to use you how I want, just be a good girl for me and we can fuck like this all the time," he hissed out, making sure he was loud enough for Jim to hear, which he was.

"Yes, oh my god, yes," you replied in a mewl.

"Gonna fill you up, doll, and you're going to take it, just like before, you got that?" he whispered hoarsely, and you answered him with a pleased, shaky moan.

Your juices were running along his balls and down his thighs, the sensation mingling as he continued to push forward into your quivering entrance. You fiercely rode him, throwing yourself into the intensity of it all, clinging onto him desperately with both hands at his back now, scratching away at the pale skin there and leaving bright pink lines across as he bucked upward into your heat. Your whole body grew taut as your walls clamped down around him, and with one more harsh thrust from beneath you, your climax was inevitable.

You came first, howling as your body shivered and jerked, Jerome had to cradle the small of your back instead of your ass to keep you steady atop him as you lost yourself, gasping and moaning as your canal tightened even harder, desperately trying to milk him of his seed. And it succeeded, his knees going weak and his member throbbing inside of you as he emptied himself, pouring a hot, thick load deep into you as you thrashed about.

There was a weak smirk on his face as Jim's shouting on the phone served to be the ginger's favorite background noise, and after you quieted down he reached over to end the call with a click while you didn't notice.


	5. A Death Wish

The next day, you jolted awake from your deep slumber, only to find that the ginger wasn't next to you on the wrinkled sheets. Was it all just a dream? No, it couldn't have been. You glanced about your surroundings, this was not your home. The sun was gleaming from the windows, and you realized that you must have been already hours late for school. You threw the blanket from your body and started searching about for your phone on the bed, but after a few moments looking around in vain, you realized that Jerome must have took it. Maybe that was for the best. You didn't know what you would say to your dad anyway, or if you would ever be able to look him in the eye after this, knowing what you did. He must have been worried sick, what did you get yourself into? How could you have let this happen?

Did you even want to come back? You didn't even know. Of course you wanted to come back, Jim and Leslie were your family, how could you not? But then how come you didn't have a problem with your phone being taken away, your only means of contacting them. You were not about to answer that question. With a sigh, you removed yourself from the bed and picked up the clothes that were thrown across the room last night, slipping your black blouse and plaid skirt back on in a hurry. You checked your hair in the vanity mirror, running your hands through the mess. When you were finished combing the locks with your fingers, you stared back at the marks of discoloration that covered parts of your neck. You could feel it on your hips as well, and you found that you didn't mind the ache in them, they were a nice reminder of the night before. You wanted to feel that way again, that sense of freedom, that addictive high when you were with him. There wasn't anything like it.

You left the room, wondering where the ginger had gone off to, and made your way downstairs with a yawn. When you reached the floor, your mouth nearly watered at the table adorned with breakfast foods, and you wanted to try a little bit of everything having so many choices. With a squeal, you walked over to seat yourself on a chair in front of the table. The moment you did, you heard a bussing cart being rolled in by a tall man in a luxurious suit with a tight-lipped smile on his face.

"Good morning," he greeted as he approached you, filling the rest of the table with more food. You were about to grab a doughnut from one of the trays before he showed up but you pulled your hand back, immediately remembering the kind of place you were staying at and how you should never take without permission. "No please, help yourself, you're our guest, didn't Jerome make that clear?" he said with a low, amused chuckle.

"Thanks," you replied with a small smile before reaching back to pick up the doughnut and taking a bite from it. "Is he still here?"

"No, Jerome went out, had some business to take care of," he stated briefly as he picked up a ceramic cup, lifting it up when he added, "tea or coffee?"

"Coffee please," you told him quickly, knowing what 'business' must have meant by now. "What business exactly?" you questioned, even though you knew the answer to that one.

"Oh you know boys his age, they like to have some rowdy fun, he'll be back later," he said with a smug smile, brushing you off. You were quick to piece together that this must have been the one that broke out Jerome and the others, you already didn't like him and his overly pleased-with-oneself demeanor. "He seems to be fond of you," he noted, his brows raising when he asserted, "judging from the noise last night."

"I'm sorry, so sorry, really," you told him, your cheeks heating up in utter embarrassment as you sunk down in your chair, nibbling at the doughnut.

"Oh no worries, like I said you're our guest, and you're welcome here," he replied. "Sugar and cream?" he asked, and you quickly nodded in response so he added them both in your cup of coffee before handing it to you. "Silly me, where are my manners? I'm Theo Galavan," he chuckled and reached his hand out for you.

You merely forced a smile when you grabbed his hand and shook it briefly. "Y/N, it's nice to meet you," the words rolled off your tongue awkwardly.

"Detective Gordon's daughter, correct?" he asked as he raised a brow, a smirk playing on his lips. You nodded as you took a sip of warm coffee from your cup. "Does he know you're here?"

Before you were able to answer, a young woman with golden locks skipped her way into the dining room, humming a tune as she picked up a waffle from one of the many plates on the table. You swallowed thickly, you knew she was one of the escapees in the Arkham breakout, and it had been so long since you last seen her. She was nothing like the kind, selfless woman you knew before. You recalled the good times you two spent together, how she would always take you out to shop with her, and the advice she would give you whenever you were having trouble with a boy or just problems in general. She was a friend. She was someone you once trusted. You wondered how someone could change just like that, how they could go from one thing to another almost in a blink of an eye. You didn't know who she was anymore.

She smiled at Theo before she whipped her head back to shoot you a glance, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "What is she doing here?" she asked in a sharp, vexed tone. "That's who the ginger picked up? Her, of all people?"

"Barbara, play nice," Theo warned, and Barbara rolled her eyes at that, mumbling something under her breath.

"So he fancies you? What did you do to attract him, huh?" she teased, taking a step towards where you were seated. You moved back and dropped the last bit of your doughnut on the table when she leaned in close. You didn't answer, just watched the way that devious smile formed on her lips. "Run while you still can," she advised in a ominous tone, and she added "he bites," when she took a bite from her waffle. "You must have a dark side, to want to be with that loony, to willingly stick around here with all the other freaks. You got a death wish or somethin'?" she asked, her brows raised inquisitively. You frowned at that, maybe she did have a point.

She cackled before she grabbed your cup of coffee and took a sip from it. "C'mon entertain me. How's Jimbo doing? Is he happy with his skank of a wife?" she questioned, and you shot her a glower before you turned away from her gaze. "He's bound to get bored of her, eventually, and then you'll be stuck with me again," she taunted, a wicked grin on her face.

When you made a move to stand up from your chair, Theo placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder and narrowed his eyes at her, silently telling her to stop.

"What has Jerome told you?" he inquired with a tilt of his head.

"You broke him out, correct?" you ignored his question by asking another one.

"Yes, that's correct," he affirmed. "I'm not going to regret saying that to the daughter of Detective Gordon, am I?" he added with a sly smile, his tone somewhat threatening, and you knew exactly what the outcome would be if you dare squealed on him.

You shook your head almost immediately before answering, "No, of course not."

"Good," he said, pleased with your response, setting the forks and spoons down beside the plates on the table with a clink. "I don't see us having any problems moving forward then."

Meanwhile, Jim was sitting by his desk at the precinct, worried sick about you. He was restless, hadn't been able to catch a blink of sleep when one of the police officers reported to him that Jerome had took you away and drove off. He couldn't stop thinking about the phone call, what Jerome was doing to you and how he was going to make him pay. The mental image of how scared and frail you must have been wouldn't leave his mind, it was haunting him every second of every hour. He thought you were coerced into what occurred last night, and he blamed himself for it. He blamed himself for everything. He couldn't do anything other than agonize over what was happening to you, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you, no, he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing that he didn't save you.

"We're going to find her, Jim, don't give up hope just yet," his partner reminded him across his desk. "I know we will, not a doubt in my mind."

Jim had his hands buried in his face, dark circles under his eyes as he mumbled under his breath, staring down at nothing in particular. "It's my fault, Harvey, it's all my fault. I never should have took her to that goddamn circus. Never should have let her get involved. Now that psychopath has her," he quavered.

"Hey, you can't beat yourself up over that, as your partner I won't let you," Harvey told him with a frown, knowing how deeply this was affecting his partner, and that it wasn't the time for jokes as much as he didn't like to take things seriously. "She's okay, she's a fighter, just like you. She's going to make it," he assured.

Jim shook his head, slamming a fist down on the desk, making it shake with the impact. "Dammit Harvey, that's not what I'm concerned about!" he snapped, his voice raising.

Harvey was stunned for a moment, and Jim took a breath before he continued on. "There was these pictures back at my apartment. The lunatic must have broke in somehow."

"What were the pictures?" Harvey asked curiously.

Jim didn't answer for a long moment as he rubbed his temple in frustration, thinking back to the horrifying pictures before he finally stated, "He's already had his way with her."

"Oh my god, Jim, I'm so sor-"

"That bastard is going to pay, I'll make sure of it. I'm going to kill him for this," he cut his partner off with a rasp.

"I'm with you on that, one hundred percent, we have to find that psychopath and kill him on sight. No way in hell is he getting away with this!" Harvey exclaimed in agreement.

"We have to find her Harvey, we have to. We could be running out of time. She needs our help," he urged.

Leslie couldn't go to work. She wasn't in any shape to take care of others, not when she was feeling this sick to her stomach about this ordeal. She just wanted you back home, safe and in one piece, hoping with everything she had that you would make it out alive. She was the one that discovered the photos in Jim's room, and she was absolutely horrified, that she instantly tore them from the wall and ripped them to pieces. She didn't know what to do with herself other than prepare for the worst, that she may lose you, the girl who she had come to love as her own daughter. Her hope was dying. Leslie needed to hear your voice, that was all she wanted, to know that you were still alive and breathing, that was all she could really hope for at this point.

It was rather late, and you spent most of the day trying to avoid Theo. The man was seriously starting to get on your nerves. You didn't have to worry about the others bothering you, because they followed the ginger, and you were thankful when Barbara joined them briefly after that unwanted encounter. You were just glad to be by yourself now. You didn't belong here. This wasn't where you were supposed to be. You were having seconds thoughts about everything. Maybe you should leave while you still had the chance, maybe you could find your way back.

You couldn't imagine what your parents must have been going through, and it felt so wrong that you weren't even trying to come back home to them. The thought didn't even seem to cross your mind. You didn't want to face your friends or your family after what you had done, it was shameful, you hardly recognized yourself in the mirror. The ginger was still gone. You knew what he was doing, that much was obvious. He was leaving his mark on the city, just like he told you he was going to. You couldn't think of that, no, you had to leave that part behind you. You had to forget about it, maybe that was the only way you could live with yourself and make it bearable.

To clear your head and relax, you made your way to the bathroom, stripping down from your clothes piece by piece before half-skipping your way to the glass door, twisting the knob to turn the water on. When the steam started to fill the air you smiled to yourself, gingerly sticking a foot in and testing the water with your toes, deeming it just the right temperature. The moment your body joined the rush of warm water, suddenly you felt like you could take it easy for once. You just wanted to stay in here as long as you possibly could. The sound of the rushing water surrounded you, soothing your bones and taking the stress of everything away with it down the drain. You basked in the heat with your eyes clamped shut for so long you had no idea how much time had passed, nor did you care. Your hair stuck tight to your face, eyelashes dripping as you smiled softly and angled your head to reach more of the water.

With a satisfied, deep sigh you reached out for the body wash, lathering it all over your skin languidly. The thick white foam smelled like cherry blossom, and you hummed to yourself as you took your sweet time in bathing, hands gliding slowly down each arm, your legs, around your waist, up to your breasts. The instant your palms brushed your nipples you felt a sudden jolt of arousal spread through you, making you suck your lower lip in as the thoughts of last night filed your head. You missed him so much already, and he hadn't even been gone long. You just wanted to see him again, and feel his touch, let him use you as he pleased. If only he was here, maybe at least you could pretend he was.

You rinsed yourself off quickly before you positioned yourself against the tiled wall under the stream. With your eyes shut tight, you allowed your body to relax, your hands and mind drifting in sync. You couldn't stop thinking about last night, how he ravaged you, the way he filled you up just right, or that dark gaze when he knew he had you right where he wanted you, with just that look you were completely spellbound and willing to do whatever it was he told you. He proved to be all you anticipated and more, everything you could have ever needed in your life, only more dangerous.

A pleasant tingle shot straight to your core and you moaned, heart aching with your desire for him. You missed him, there wasn't any point of trying to deny it or fight it anymore, this was what you wanted, you had to accept that truth. Your breathing came in puffs as your hand slid between your slippery thighs, uttering a soft sigh when you found the nub nestled against your curls, wasting no time pressing down. The slow, lazy circles made you shiver, your whole body humming as your other hand clumsily grabbed your breast and squeezed, massaged, before pinching an erect nipple, and the tandem sensations left you buzzing and hazy with lust.

"Jerome..."

His name fell from your lips shamelessly again and again as you started to rock your hips from the wall slowly while you glided your fingers up and down on your clit, thinking back to the way he touched you to keep you going. The way he could use those long fingers drove you crazy, it was almost too good. You were painfully aware of the fact that your touch could never measure up to his, but that didn't stop you and you kept up a steady back and forth motion because this was all you had for now. Your insides tensed up deliciously, and with the frantic rubbing you were becoming so much slicker, but it still wasn't quite enough.

Without wasting another second, you stretched your hand out for the shower head. It was such a fancy and luxurious bath so you found out that it could spray from other angles. This would have to do, for now, you were willing to settle for anything just to get off. You nudged the nozzle impatiently, switching the spray so that the water came out in swirls, and you allowed the water to spurt down your neck, chest, stomach, hips, and then right down to where you needed it most.

You emitted a loud squeaking noise from the sensation that ended in a pleased, drawn out sigh. The consistent flow of warm water circled your clit with an intensity that took some time adjusting to. You were quick to writhe about as you tried to find the perfect distance and angle, too close was overwhelming and uncomfortable while too far didn't do much of anything for you, but with a few more attempts you found just the right place for the water to pour over, and you instantly relaxed as your eyes drifted shut once more. You couldn't get the image out of your head of him kissing you last night, that deep, all-consuming delectable kiss that stole your breath away. The way his teeth sunk into your lower lip and his tongue darted in your mouth, the way he laughed and moaned against you, that dark laugh that held such promise, how he would flick his finger across your swollen nub over and over while he kept his lips locked on yours, the way he would say your name, all ragged and breathy, full of sin.

Those thoughts made you suck in hot breaths and helplessly keen. Your moans rose in volume, the sound echoing and bouncing off the walls. Your abdomen tightened up once more and heat coursed through your veins. You lowered the shower head down because the angle you settled at wasn't enough anymore, and a gasp fell from your lips upon the sudden spiking surge that came with it. Your nub was swollen and puffy while your center was very slippery from your arousal. A trembling hand reached down past the gushes of water as you tried to push your fingers inside of yourself. You were so desperate to be filled, your clit was pulsating and your limbs were vibrating. You needed him so bad. Where was he? He could make everything better if he was just here.

With a whimper, you moved the shower head even closer so there was barely a distance.

Your head tilted back on the wet wall as you settled on this angle, panting heavily under your breath as you cried his name mixed in between with those soft, squeak-gasps. Your knees started to fail you as you struggled to stay upright, your quivering fingers managing to slip between your folds while you bit down on your bottom lip, whining involuntarily as the pressure in your stomach started to coil with abandon, and within seconds you were about to-

"Keep going dollface, don't mind me."

Your eyes snapped open the second you heard that oh-so familiar voice, and you nearly tumbled over from surprise, barely catching yourself as your whole body shook from the near-climax that was about to erupt. A very real and present Jerome stood stark naked across from you, eyes dark and lids hooded as he gazed at you. The door to the shower was fully opened and he stepped in with a vile smirk playing on his lips as he flicked his tongue across them. You noticed there was dots of blood stained on his face, and the sight of it made you swallow thickly. Your heart was hammering away at your chest as you struggled to find your voice.

The jets of hot water soaked his whole body, his auburn hair dripping in front of his eyes as he stared you down with a feral lust, taking a step towards you as you stayed close to the wall. You remained gaping at him with wide eyes and mouth parted in shock as well as embarrassment. He wasn't supposed to see that. You thought he would still be out, that you would at least have enough time to finish.

"Jerome, I-"

"Looks like someone missed me," he sang in approval, chills running up your spine in response. Of course you did.

You were still rendered speechless, unable to find your words which only made him chuckle. You tried not to stare at his silky, smooth pale skin, his lean torso, or the freckles dusted over his body, or the way his lips curved into a wide, dangerous smirk. You tried. When it was all you could look at. You hardly noticed when he took the shower head from your grasp and replaced it in the holder, setting the spray back to normal while never breaking eye contact with you even for a moment.

For a few moments, he stood in front of you, simply observing you. He eyed you up and down, you could feel wherever his eyes were on you, and then his fingertips brushed past your jawline, trailing down along your neck, across your shoulders and arms. Then in an instant he snatched your wrists in a firm grip, nudged his knee between yours, and left you utterly exposed for him. There was a split-second of a sharp, roguish grin, and the next thing you knew his teeth caught the sensitive skin under your ear and you whined from the back of your throat, immediately bucking against him.

His hold on your wrists grew tighter as he locked them on the wall above your head. Then he pressed his weight against you to anchor your waist down. The nip turned into a sharp, stinging suck, leaving a bright red mark under the skin, and the heat pooled deep around your stomach. He loved leaving marks on you, claiming you, making sure you knew that you were his.

"So is that what you did while I was away at Arkham? Is that how you got by without me? Don't worry, doll, I'm here now," he murmured against the shell of your ear, taunting you in a sinfully low voice.

"No I didn't-"

He shushed you with a laugh and a finger to your lips. Jerome pulled back enough to bore his gaze into your own, his eyes so piercing that you felt like your heart speed up even more so. The intensity made you weak in the knees, your thoughts muddled into only your desire for him and the need you felt for him to touch you anywhere, just anything would be good enough as long as it came from him. His broad grin widened, and you shivered in anticipation.

"Don't you worry, I'm here to help, baby doll."

The purr mixed in with the term of endearment seared you and you had to suck on your lower lip to hold in the moan that threatened to spill out. Jerome dipped down, bringing your wrists with him which he re-anchored beside your hips, and without a moment's warning, his mouth was settled upon your heated, aching sex.

You couldn't help the whine that escaped your parted lips and you thrust your hips but then he pushed you back, tongue languidly laving from the bottom to the top of your slit as he groaned against your flesh. He lapped at your folds with that smooth tongue of his, pushing it past your entrance and rolling it against the bundle of nerves. He was selfishly and hungrily trying to get every bit of your juices that he could reach while your faced burned and your insides twisted. Your soft, breathy whimpers were like music to his ears, and only spurred him on.

His nose nuzzled your damp curls and he inhaled deeply, exhaled with a low sigh and then his chin tilted up, bringing his tongue with it to trail over your bud. A hot surge went through you from that single point down every nerve in your body and you moaned so sharply from the way his tongue toyed with your clit so cruelly, like he was going to take as much time as he could drawing this out because it was so much more fun to torture you instead of giving you everything you wanted.

"Taste so fucking good," he whispered in a rasp. "So sweet."

His tongue flicked and brushed against your clit with sinfully practiced, teasing motions, occasionally circling and then always dipping back in to taste you again. You squirmed about as he slithered it around your palpitating sex, making sure there wasn't a single spot he missed.

"Jerome, please, I need to come, please," you pleaded around heavy, labored breaths.

Those words made him stop in his movements. You whined from the back of your throat and looked down at him; his cheeks were comfortably tucked between your thighs, and you could only see his hooded, lust-filled eyes gazing up at you. His brows quirked, and you bit down harder on your lip in embarrassment. He hummed and laughed against your swollen skin, a sensation that rumbled straight through you.

"Want that, huh," he chuckled. "You," he murmured as he whipped his head away, and a draft of cold air escaped against your skin where his face had been, "can and will wait until I say you're allowed to come, doll. My rules."

The dark promise only made more thick stretches of heat ball up in your core, and with that, his mouth was on your sex once more with a fervor that left you completely at his mercy. His tongue probed again and again and by the time he started sucking away on your clit, you were lost in every sensation, your body quivering with every skilled movement of his tongue while his fingertips grazed against your dripping entrance.

"Give me some pretty words, baby doll, wanna hear you," he murmured.

"Please, I... need your tongue, Jerome, feels so good," you replied in a whimper. "Please keep going, please."

He hummed in response. He seemed to know every single time you were on the verge of orgasm, and took great, sadistic pleasure in pulling away to kiss and suck and nip at your thighs and all around until you came back down enough for him to resume. The sensations compounded until the air was filled with nothing but your stuttered, breathless cries mingling with his name. Soon enough the breaks he had to take hardly spaced out, and you were so unabashedly loud with your need for him to just let you come that you hoped he would take pity on you.

"Tsk, tsk, careful now," he purred before a breathless laugh slipped out. Suddenly your wrists were free from his grip and his hands grabbed hold of your hips instead to keep you in place. And now, his previous attentions paled in comparison to the abandoned ferocity he unleashed on you. It was clear that he was giving you permission to come. With the way his tongue was rolling fast and hard against your pearl, up and down, back and forth, you knew any second now you were about to burst. "Fuck, I love this," he breathed out.

After so much of that painstakingly slow, cruel build up, you couldn't bear it any longer. A shrill cry fell from your lips, and it was deafened by the sound of your blood pumping rapid and heavy in your head. Belatedly, your hands took advantage of their freedom and gripped at his wet hair, yanking him by it as the yearning in your core became tighter. Then the edge approached so quickly that your whole body shook with it, nails digging into his scalp. With one filthy groan into you and another circle of his tongue, you helplessly toppled over it.

Then all at once, your moans turned silent and your nails clung on his scalp as you squirmed against the wall, and still he held you up with his tongue pulsing rhythmically on you as you rode out your climax. The spiraling heat shot through your entire body, and wave after wave crashed over you until you were boneless. Your fists slowly loosened, and the very steamy room gradually came back into shaky focus as you blinked away tears at the corners of your eyes. Jerome was already upright and kissing you deeply before you could manage to think clearly.

"Fuck, you're so much fun, dollface," he whispered in a husky voice against your lips before he crushed them upon your own. His hands skimmed up your body impatiently, and it was clear that he missed the feel of your skin, too. "I could eat you out all day. I don't think I want you to ever leave, you're staying with me."

Your heart beat harder in your chest upon his words, and then opened your mouth to reply but then his mouth covered yours once more, lips swollen from his earlier attentions. When his tongue slipped against yours, you tasted yourself on him and melted into the heated lip-lock. You couldn't help but moan as you felt his erection push against your stomach, he was so hard and throbbing and you were dizzy with need.

The water beat down upon you two and the steam rose in delicate tendrils around your bodies. You breathed in the steam, letting the heat warm your insides. He scooped you up by your ass and slammed your body against the wall as he held you tight in his strong arms. You could feel and hear his already-ragged breathing and then suddenly his tip was at your entrance, slowly parting you open and making a groan escape his parted lips. His self-control was at an all-time low. He needed this as much as you did. You knew that.

The head of his member was barely in when you heard him mutter, "fuck it" under his breath and then suddenly every hard, swollen inch of him was shoved inside of you, filling you to the brim. His voice was tight as he uttered your name, eyes pinched shut. You threw your head back against the wall as your hands reached forward to grip his shoulders. From the first stroke he was in to the hilt, pressing as far into you as your core would let him. You felt so full, and from all the previous attentions you were more than ready when his thrusts came brutally deep and fast, making sure he bottomed out every single time his hips met yours.

He knew how much more sensitive you were after you came, and you loved and hated him for it as he slammed you back into the wall each time he rammed himself back inside your entrance.

"Shit," he rasped, "your cunt feels so fucking good."

"Jerome, oh god," you cried out, making him chuckle and lean in to bite your lower lip, sucking on it briefly before pulling your thighs up and around him. The angle shifted and abruptly he was hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made you see stars and any remaining sense you had left went straight out the window.

"Oh fuck, yes, right there, don't stop, please don't stop," you pleaded between broken sounds.

"Didn't plan on it, doll," he crooned before he emitted a strained groan. Your shoulders trembled as you hips tried to get closer to his, so you could get him in deeper somehow. When your walls engulfed him whole, and he knew you were about to burst again, his frantic motions came to a halt, making you whine in desperation. He slipped his member away from your entrance and then suddenly barked out, "Turn around and face the wall, now."

He raised his hand and made a twirling motion with his finger to punctuate what he meant and you followed it, turning to face the tiles without hesitation, only to be pressed up against them instantly. You felt the firmness of his chest meet your back, and he affectionately licked stray droplets from your shoulder before biting down and sucking at the same time his length entered you once again.

His hands roamed your body, and you immediately leaned into his touch when one grabbed your breast and the other made its way down between your legs to brush against your overly sensitive clit. You felt the rumble of his dark, quiet laugh as you writhed against him while gasping helplessly, and he paid you no mind as he kept up his harsh, punishing pace. You were ready to comply to his every whim. He pushed the nape of your neck down with a hand to curve into the wall so your ass jutted out for him to grope and position you however he pleased.

You couldn't fathom how he was able to stay so composed, the pit of your stomach was in knots that continued to swell up as a second orgasm was building up higher and higher just from the lightest touch of his fingers. The intensity of it all was too much for you. All you could do was push back into him and moan at every overwhelming sensation, unable to form any words apart from his name as you clawed at anything you could reach that was in front of you.

"Good girl, fuck, that's it" he cooed, "almost there..."

You felt your walls clamp down around him and he hissed in response. His thrusts turned into a more uneven, frenzied pistoning, every slam forward caused a friction that you couldn't get enough of, and his long rolled against your clit with a precision that had you wildly rocking into him.

"You're not allowed to come yet, not until I say," he breathed the order out against your ear in a rasp that sent a shiver racing down your spine. You cried out in frustration and it took everything in you not to burst right then and there, but still you obeyed, following his every wish without question.

His member felt so stiff inside your wet heat and you could feel the growing lack of control in his erratic, unrestrained movements. He was barely pulling out of you now, but each thrust back in was so ruthless. His swollen head slammed into that particular spot that made your whole body twist and turn with it. You were so warm and wet and so close and tight, bucking back into him as he pounded you against the tiles. He increased both pace and force, gritting his teeth as he held back his climax under the greater friction.

His long fingers were frantic and you would have buckled if he hadn't been pinning you to the wall. And then after a few more pumps of his hips, a few more deep thrusts, he demanded in a breathy whisper, "Come. Fucking come for me."

With that, you screamed his name and your walls clenched tighter around his member, your climax rushing through you as he tumbled over the edge with you. His fingernails dug into your shoulders as he gasped your name out, strangled, and into your neck. You felt his member twitch and throb repeatedly just as the warmth of his fluids spilled deep into you, filling you in just the way you needed it.

He continued pounding into you as he rode out his orgasm, and yours lasted with his, only fading when his movements finally ceased, leaving the sparks of electricity to become faint tingles in your skin. The room was spinning, your body went slack, and you were on cloud nine, and apparently so was he. With a disbelieving groan from him and a breathy, loud sigh from you, he slumped against your body over the wall so you two were tangled up in one another.

The water was still running, though it was only lukewarm now, and Jerome had yet to let go of you. He hummed low and contentedly in his throat, completely spent, and loosely wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you upright while his chest pressed tight against your back. Without giving it much thought, you turned your head back and planted your lips upon his. He returned the kiss, lips crushing your pair while they shaped together so perfectly, a low possessive sound bubbling in his throat.

Maybe there was a freedom to being with Jerome. Maybe this was what you wanted all along, not to be the little girl that everyone was looking after and felt the need to protect. You were someone else when you were with him. You wanted to stay with him. You wanted him. Maybe there was no going back, and maybe this was where you were supposed to be, maybe you belonged right here, with him.

"You're stuck with me," he breathed. "You're all mine," he added.

"I'm yours."


	6. Run While You Still Can

"Give it a try, doll, a little risk isn't going to kill you."

You were standing in front of Jerome, watching as he placed a single round in a chamber of the revolver then spun the cylinder while humming with a devilish smirk across his face. You knew how much he loved games, and that he was crazy so it was no surprise to you that something like this would be a considered a pastime to him.

"There's only a one in six chance that it'll blow your brains out, so the odds are in your favor," he said proudly, handing you the gun that you reluctantly accepted.

"Was that supposed to comfort me?" you sassed, your eyebrows furrowed. "Jerome, this is insane," you added, lower lip caught between your teeth.

"It's a lot of fun, gets your heart pumping," he explained. "You seem to like fun lately, what's it going to take for you to give it a shot?" he guffawed at his own joke, and you rolled your eyes at that.

"A one in six chance is still scary, what if-"

"How about I'll lay one on you," he trailed off as he took a step towards you, his hand stroking underneath your chin before he tilted it upwards to meet his gaze, lips hovering just barely above yours before he added, "if you do what I say."

"For a kiss? That's all you got for me?" you challenged, half playfully. He merely stared back at you with his piercing eyes, as if he was just waiting for you to do as he said. He didn't kiss you as much as you would have liked him to, now that you thought about it. Not nearly as much as he fucked you into oblivion. After a long moment, you heaved a sigh and gestured him to move back from you with your hand.

You didn't know what had compelled you as you rose the gun up until the muzzle pressed against your head. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest, swallowing thickly in preparation for what was to come. Somehow he could get you to do everything he asked (or ordered) purely for the excitement it brought, the rush it gave you, the exhilaration of being with a criminal. You hooked a single finger around the trigger before shutting your eyes.

Click.

You opened your eyes when nothing happened and burst out laughing in relief, making the ginger join in on your merriment.

"That's my girl, and as promised," he reached forward to take the gun for you and then wrapped an arm around your waist before he pulled you tight to his chest and locked lips with yours, noses bumping in the rush of it. The moment his lips crushed upon yours, you felt your whole body heat up as you melted against him.

The kiss was possessive and almost needy, mouths molding together, hot breaths mingling in the heated frenzy. He had a hand buried in the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging slightly and sending little shocks of pleasure down your spine. You opened your mouth to allow his tongue to slide along yours and couldn't suppress the moan that escaped.

Click.

You jerked away the second you heard that sound again, eyes snapping wide open in surprise. He was grinning dangerously wide in amusement as he whipped the gun away from your head. You covered your mouth with a hand, in shock.

"Two times, impressive," he hummed before a boisterous laugh spilled out.

"Jerome!" you exclaimed, hissing before smacking him on his chest.

"You should have seen the look on your face!" he mocked with another laugh, finding your shocked expression to be humorous. "It's all in good fun, dollface, don't be so dramatic."

"Stop picking on her, ginger," Tabitha chimed in, walking past you two and grabbing a snack once she reached the dining table. Jerome rolled his eyes at that.

"Don't do that again. Once was enough, you fucker," you whined, looking back at him with a glower marring your features. "Thanks, Tabs."

"Aw, don't be angry at me," he said, somewhat sympathetically. He cupped your cheek in his hand, eyes focusing on you with a look that was strangely soft and tender. He stroked your skin with his long fingers, and you inched closer to his touch despite yourself, shutting your eyes as you breathed a sigh. "All irony aside, you certainly are to die for, doll," he purred.

"You can be such an asshole sometimes," you replied with a puff of a laugh.

"Hm, you love it," he chirped. "Who knew you could be so brave," he added, caressing your skin a lingering moment longer before he pulled it away and grasped your hand. "C'mon, there's something I wanna show you."

"Run while you still can, while your body's still intact," she warned in a deadpan tone when she walked right by you.

You didn't know how to explain it, if it was even possible to find the right words. Didn't matter, there was no turning back now.

You found yourself forgetting who he was with you were with him, or that you didn't care, you didn't think you could distinguish between the two anymore. You realized that you didn't want to go back home, you wanted to stay with him. You didn't miss your old life, your parents' overprotectiveness, or even your friends back at school, nothing. This was where you wanted to be, with him.

There was always a danger, a risk, though it didn't seem to matter, or maybe that was what enticed you, that was the thrill to it. You figured it was probably a waste of time thinking too deep into things. You weren't sure how much time had passed since you had been living here, time flew by, and there was nothing holding you down. You let him keep your phone because everything you wanted to avoid was on it.

He showered you with gifts, ones that you knew he stole, but it was the thought that counted, and all you cared about was that he was giving them to you. You more than happily wore the tiaras and crowns as well as the dresses that he brought back to you, and he was always sure to tell you just how gorgeous you looked with them on. He didn't want to kill you, no, if he wanted to, he would have done so a while ago.

He's had every chance to when you let your guard down at night, falling into a deep slumber on his bed, or any of the several times he fucked you senseless. Sometimes you half-expected it would come, that maybe he would grow bored of you or just kick you to the curve simply because he felt like it or the billionaire told him to. There was no telling what he would do, even when you thought you had him figured out, he surprised you. He kept you on your toes, that was for sure.

What surprised you most was just how affectionate he could be at times, like how he would stick around for cuddle sessions or bring you breakfast in bed because he knew you didn't want to be around the others. Things were nice, somehow, as nice as they could be, you figured. You didn't know what this 'relationship' was, but you didn't want to question it or overthink it, what was important was that he wanted you, of all people, he thought you were special. It wasn't sunshine and rainbows, but it was something.

It's not just sex. It's not just his hot breath in your ear or his low growl when he gets really into it. He strips you of your defenses and pins you down and then you don't mind to be defeated by him. You begin to wonder if it's always meant to be like this. Maybe you can never overcome him.

Maybe you were dead wrong, and all you are to him is just a toy for his own personal amusement when he's bored, but it didn't feel like that. There was something more. There was something between you two that no one would be able to understand, something that Gotham would never see, hell you didn't even understand it yourself. You're not sure what to do, how to stop it, because this isn't love. It's an obsession, something that consumed you whole.

You felt so dependent on him, the attention he gives you, and you loathe it, because this wasn't who you are. It's unfamiliar and sickening, yet you can't help it, you're not sure if you even want to be helped or for it to stop.

When he wasn't wreaking havoc on the city, creating chaos for his own enjoyment, he was spending time here with you. That meant something. It made you realize that just maybe he cared. It's lonely when he's not around, like something is missing from your life.

His presence is what you crave, his absence is what occupies your mind. You want to play it off as an entirely physical thing, but the lines are smudged and bleeding into each other, and you thought about laying bare your soul at least once or twice or more, that was something you couldn't deny. It's not that you actually trust him, but you want to, and that was fucked up enough in its own way.

He guided you into another room with a firm grip on your hand, and the gesture made your heart swell up in your chest. He kicked the door shut behind him when you two entered the spacious room with a desk in the middle of it, in front of the floor-length windows and the beaming sun lighting up the place.

"Isn't this Theo's room?" you asked after looking about the place for a few moments, looking back to see a wicked grin on the ginger's face.

"Yes exactly, it's the only place we haven't 'tainted'," he replied, much emphasis on that last word. "He's out right now for some important, fancy rich billionaire business," he punctuated his statement by gesticulating quotation marks with his fingers.

You smiled proudly as you stepped over to the desk, "Sounds like a plan," you answered.

You were quick to spot the telephone on the desk, thinking back to how long it had been since you heard your father's voice and how worried he must be at this very moment. You figured your face was all over the news, you were sure of it, but you couldn't bring yourself to check. You avoided the news altogether.

You wondered how this was affecting your friends, if they missed you at all. You could perfectly capture the frown on Leslie's face right now, the tears streaming down her face, how she must be doing whatever she could to help Jim in his mission to get you back home.

"Thinking about calling Mommy and Daddy?" he asked as he stood next to you, his tone oddly empathetic, shaking you from your thoughts.

"No," you answered with a shake of your head. "I don't know what I would say to them."

"Fair enough. So even if I said you had permission you still wouldn't want to?" he questioned, cocking his head to the side with a genuinely curious look in his eyes.

"Still no," you affirmed. "They would try to find out where I am, beg me to tell them, and well, we can't have that, now can we?"

Somehow, his Cheshire cat grin grew wider at that. "No, we can't."

He seemed to be pleased with your answer, and in an instant he pulled you to the side of the desk where your skin dug into the lip of it. He shoved your head face-first against the cool surface of the wood, making you involuntarily wince when your breasts compressed into it.

Jerome started stroking your hair with spidery touches that sent shivers down your spine, leaning down to plant a kiss to your ear, his chest meeting your back. He murmured hoarsely, "So, you rather stay here then go back home to Mommy and Daddy? Why?"

"Because I wouldn't be here with you, this is where I want to be," you whispered back, moving your head so your cheek was planted firmly against the desk. Your heart was fluttering madly in your chest, threatening to climb up your throat. "If you're not there, I don't want to go back."

"Hm, good answer," he answered with a chuckle. He leaned back a little and reached under the skirt of your dress, sparks of electricity coursing through your veins as your body lit up under each stroke and press of his fingers. "Don't you worry, you're staying with me," he told you, your fingers curled tightly around the sides of the desk, to keep you steady, but every inch of you felt as though it were melting at those words, tension coiling and tugging at you with an insistence impossible to ignore. "You're not going anywhere."

You swallowed hard. He continued spreading feathery kisses across your ear, then down to your jaw, pressing his lips upon the marks that were covering your neck, making your shoulders roll back as the prickling sensation washed over you. Then he pulled away completely, his hand tugging at the neckline of your dress and tearing it down, the noise resounding across the walls in the room, the suddenness of it making you gasp.

He hummed appreciatively when your bare flesh was exposed, chuckling to himself once it was revealed that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

"My, my, my," he jested, a laugh spilling straight from his throat. He pulled the dress down the rest of the way and you were quick to step out of it. "You make it so hard to resist you, sometimes, you know?" he said, tone laced heavily with amusement. "Don't know what I would do without you, dollface," he added with a silky purr, his reverent eyes soaking in the sight of your bare body.

He bent his head down and sealed his lips around the side of your neck before he started kissing his way down your backside, moving lower and lower at a painstakingly slow pace, teasing you so much that you couldn't help but inch closer to him. The wet scattering kisses made your body shiver and press down harder against the desk, soft moans pouring from your mouth as you relaxed and your eyes drifted shut. He inhaled the scent of you like he was going to consume you.

"Ass up," he instructed, and you immediately complied. A dangerously wide smirk pulling at his lips once you did. You could feel his unwavering gaze upon your pliant, submissive body, and it almost made you uneasy, so exposed and helpless before him.

His hand abruptly came down and struck your ass, giving you no warning so you couldn't prepare for it. The stinging sensation spread over your entire body as you supported your upper body weight on your fingers and palms. Then it came again, harder this time. You heard the slap before you felt it, and how quick the heat bloomed across your skin. You hissed on your inhale and exhaled with a please 'ah'.

The next slap landed on your left, his hand stroking the cheek to possibly soothe the ache before he swung at it again. He slapped here again and again, making you jerk forward as you clenched your muscles and cried out every time.

"You're bad, really bad," he growled out, his voice a deep baritone. "You asked for this, doll," he whispered. A shudder went through you at the low growl of his voice, the sheer lust that laced his syllables made you burn up. His hand caressed the sensitive skin, fondling the cheek and allowing his touch to alleviate some of the pain, then his fingers dug into your flesh, making you emit a yelp, nails dragging down in torturous movements.

"Oh god," you huffed out, drawing in a ragged breath, your head spinning.

"You know, just Jerome works," he taunted with a chuckle, and you uttered a breathless laugh in response. You could hear his clothes falling to the floor, and the sound as each piece joined the pile held so much promise, you just wanted to feel him against you, for him to give you everything.

A kiss to your lower back was followed by a long lick down, making you shiver as your fingers held onto the desk in anticipation. Dropping down to his knees, he started peppering gentle, lingering kisses upon your ass cheeks, his hot breath ghosting over the skin. Then he pulled your ample cheeks apart, exposing the puckered hole to his lusty eyes. His tongue slid all the way down, slipping forward and giving a quick lap to your folds before drifting back up, this time settling hungrily at your pucker, where he gave you a couple of wet kisses as he kneaded the flesh of your cheeks.

Your ass was so receptive to his touch, and your hole clenched a little once you felt his tongue wiggled against it, trying to ease its way into you. Your eyes snapped open, and you cursed under your breath as that skilled tongue slid up and down in languid motions. You never did anything like this before, but with him, it seemed like he could make anything sound tempting.

You wanted this, needed it, and he merely pressed a little harder, prying your entrance looser with his tongue against all your resistance. Feeling his tongue slithering around inside your ass, getting it wet and easing it down in preparation for his member was agonizing, though pleasurable enough to keep you going, for now.

You pressed against the desk, moaning and squirming a little as you soaked in the frustrating bliss his tongue offered. It felt so good, but you needed more, a lot more. You spread your legs out wider involuntarily, rocking your hips forward in an attempt to get him that much closer. He knew how aroused you were, but he always got a kick of taunting you over it, pushing you over the edge enough until you were begging, and a writhing, filthy mess for him.

Everything was just a game to him, and somehow he always knew how to win, how to get his way. His tongue worked its way slowly up from the very bottom of your moist slit all the way along to the small of your back then down again.

He was sure to give your cheek one hard slap before he released it, making it jiggle with the impact. He reached down between your legs, rubbing a single digit gently along your sex, your lips puffy and soft, and completely soaked. Your juices were leaking down your thighs in an expression of utter need and lust, which drove him to lick and kiss your ass more vigorously as he snickered. His laughter was such mockery as his finger was pulled away, leaving you whimpering in protest because that little bit of sensation along your folds had fired you up even more.

"You like that, huh? Anyone ever played with your gorgeous ass like this before, doll?" he taunted, nibbling at just the right places as his other hand teased fingers along your rim now, slightly parted by his tongue and making a sweet little entrance to circle around.

"No," you croaked out around a heavy breath, "just you."

"And we're going to keep it that way, that's for damn sure," he barked out in a threatening tone. "Only I get to play with you like this, otherwise you're tainted, and I have no use for you," he spat, and you could hardly register what he was saying when another slap came down to your cheek, making you quiver violently with the jolt. He buried his face back into your crease, fingers and tongue working in tandem along your parted entrance. You were becoming dizzy with the overwhelming need for him to take you, and you didn't know how much more of this delicious pleasure you could take.

"Yeah, whatever you want," you breathed. Your body squirmed and moved in time with the way his tongue circled around your rim in a predatory fashion, fingers scissoring apart inside of you to help pry you open a little more and ready you for what was to come. "Jerome, no more teasing, I can't take it," you begged, barely managing to get the words out.

"What are the magic words?" he teased, giving another harsh slap to your cheek as he reveled in keeping you so needy and completely open before him. He loved hearing you beg until you were screaming everything you wanted from him.

"Fuck me, Daddy. Please, pretty please," you pleaded in stutters.

"Good girl."

Before he pulled his lips away, he spit onto your stretched hole, letting the thick globule of saliva linger on your rim as he pulled up to his feet and decided you waited long enough. He wasted no time in sinking his member into your ass, though not as fast or hard as you clearly needed. Instead, he fed his member in slowly, steadily, making you whine and writhe against the desk. A wide grin threatened to break out over his face; he was having too much fun taking it slow and torturing you like this because he knew it was the exact opposite of what you wanted.

He savored just how tight and warm you felt, how you wrapped so eagerly around his member, and stretched to accommodate his swollen shaft. Your blood was boiling hot in your veins as you clenched down needily on the length of him. Your wetness was running down your legs steadily, and he was moving slowly, taking his sweet time with you regardless of your whining, your pleas, it still didn't stop him from taunting you.

"Tell me how you want it, say it, don't make me tell you again," he rasped, the words coming straight from his throat.

"Please fuck me hard, please, I - I need your big cock, Daddy, I'm dripping," you implored.

And finally, he had enough of his little game, although given that his first move was to pull out of your ass, you weren't expecting much. You thought maybe he would start finger-fucking you somewhere instead, just to prolong your suffering, but that low expectation only made it even more stimulating when his body lifted up off of you, one hand grabbing your hip and the other taking a handful of hair as he shoved himself into your sex with all the strength and fire you had been so needy for.

His thrusts instantly became frantic, the tugging on your scalp making you inevitably keen. The noisy, lewd sound of flesh slapping against flesh quickly filled the room, entangling itself in your moans and grunts. He growled at the feeling of your slick, velvety walls of your sex squeezing him, and gripped harder on your hip until you were sure that his nails broke the skin, clawing and scratching away as he plunged deep into your soaked entrance.

"Fucking whore, yeah that's exactly what you are, but you're my whore, my little bitch, no one else's," he spat out. "All mine, you hear me? I'll make you scream, make you beg. Make you nothing, all you'll be is mine. My little whore."

"Yes, yes, yes," you repeated breathlessly, reveling in the way he exerted his dominance over you. After a few more wild pumps of his hips, he pulled back out, slamming his cock back into your ass. You hadn't grown much tighter again in its absence, and he was quick to start hammering away. Your cheeks bounced with each thrust, the hand on your hip squeezing deliciously tight as he sharply tugged on your hair, eliciting loud moans from your lips. You couldn't get enough of his rough handling, how he used you and did whatever he felt like with your willing body whenever he wanted.

Your hips pressed back, desperately trying to meet his insistent movements. Steady, rapid thrusts, his balls slapping against your soaked thigh as he sheathed himself again and again into your hole. The tugging on your hair matched his rhythm, his breath was coming out in pants just as yours was. His body was flushed, sweat shone lightly on his freckled skin while he rammed harder into you. Then he pulled out again and slammed back into your sex, the surprise of his return to your slick cavern making you cry out when he started pounding away again. His grip tightened in the same moment that his hips shoved forward.

You showered him with praise, encouraging him to keep going, to never stop. Your hands gripped tighter on the sides of the desk, holding on for dear life. His chest pressed down into your back, the hand on your hair pulling away and underneath your chest to grab your throat. You prepared yourself and swallowed before you moved closer to his hand. He wasn't cutting off your air supply, you could still breathe, but the sensation of it, the knowledge that he could if he wanted, drove you that much closer to your orgasm. When you raised your head, he followed you, squeezing you neck tighter, long fingers wrapping firmly around the skin.

"I wish you could see yourself right now, you look like a bitch in a heat, so filthy yet so pretty," he hissed out, his chest rumbling with his pleasure. Your body lurched forward with each of his hard thrusts, your ears burning with his grunts and growls and moans. By then you were immune to the obscene sounds falling from your mouth, most of them his name you were sure. His thrusts were furious, each one shaking you to the core as his hips slammed harder into yours, and you were powerless to stop it.

His hand stayed encircled around your neck while the other curled itself around your hip. The hand around your throat tightened gradually. Your pupils constricted as your breathing became more and more labored, your breasts heaving with each intake of air while your face flushed. Then when he knew you were struggling to breathe by the way you jerked about in a panic, his grip loosened and settle on your other hip.

The feeling of him leaning down on you made you shudder and move more frantically, the desk creaking with each plunge back inside of your quivering sex, harsh thrusts coming in a heated, sloppy pace. The warmth of his body sending you into a frenzy and you rocked your hips back and forth wildly. He stretched your leaking sex out with his long, thick member, making you drip all over the floor. You were practically on fire with the overwhelming sensations that wracked your already sensitive body.

"Scream for me, doll, I want you to scream for me," he demanded, voice ragged.

"Jerome!" you wailed his name out. You were so consumed and riled up by need that you didn't feel any shame. It encouraged him to pull all of his effort into seeing just how far he could push you, how loud you could get. Every throb, every twitch of his cock had you keening, rolling your hips back in unsteady movements.

"Such a horny little slut, but fuck, I couldn't get enough of you even if I tried," he puffed out a laugh as he took you mercilessly. He released one of your hips momentarily to give your ass a quick slap amid the heavy thrusts. Beneath your loud moans was the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, his body coming down hard against you with every ram of his hips, burying his swollen cock into you each time. There was no pause, no waste, no chance to let you savor the intense fullness of his shaft stretching you out, just the sudden hollowness that was filled before you could even let loose a needy whine over it.

There was countless new bruises on top of bruises but it didn't matter - none of it mattered, nothing mattered but him and his body and the growing ache spiraling higher and higher until it burst and sent you screaming and arching against him. Your eyes were clamped tight when you came after bucking up against him a few more times, howling as your nails dug into the desk. It all became too much, welled up inside of you agonizingly, and you let it all out vocally, not caring about who could hear you.

The electric sensations that coursed through you had you squirting all over the floor as your body shook, screams so loud and strained that they went hoarse from the overuse of your throat gone dry. With his knees weakening a little and his fingers tight in your hips as well as your wet heat clenching his shaft desperately did him in, and he grunted as he kept his mad thrusts going before he spilled his hot, sticky essence deep inside of you. As much as he wanted to stop and finally enjoy the tightness, he couldn't get over the way your legs wobbled as your body was used for his pleasure and you just laid back to take it all.

He slowly withdrew his softening member from your entrance after a long moment, a grimace on his face when he uttered a low groan. You slumped against the desk, completely boneless and spent from the intensity, legs squeezing together tightly in an effort to keep his warmth inside of you. Your eyes remained shut as your breathing slowly calmed. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked down at you with a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Oh would you look at the time, I gotta go," he told you as he slipped his clothes back on in a hurry, buttoning and zipping up. Of course, he was going. Your time with him was over. You wanted to tell him to stay, not to go risking his life anymore. You kept your mouth shut, though, you didn't want to say anything because you knew how clingy that would sound.

 _Stay_. _Please stay_. It was on the tip of your tongue, itching to be said, but you didn't. You kept quiet. "See you when I get home, princess," he said as he pressed a somewhat chaste kiss to your cheek before he pulled away. "Don't have too much fun without me!" he exclaimed, running off to the door. But then he stopped only to add, "or I might have to kill you!" he joked with a cackle, and you half laughed in response.

When he bolted out the door, you heaved a long, despondent sigh. You mumbled lowly to yourself, "Goodbye, Jerome."


	7. Tainted

Later that day, you woke up feeling rather fuzzy. Your head was pounding insistently, and you had trouble remembering what had happened before you landed in bed. You vaguely recalled the ginger coming home late at some point and possibly cuddling with you but it was still a blur. You glanced at the other side of the bed. He wasn't there.

Your stomach was burning intensely, there was a sharp sting the moment you awoke. You tore the blanket from your body and lifted up your thin pajama top with trembling fingers, wincing from the persistent throbbing sensation. After you rolled it up enough, you froze up in horror the second you saw something carved across your stomach.

Jerome.

Terror rises in your mind, heart hammering frantically in your chest, and with twitching fingers you brushed them against the wound of the name printed on your skin. Your eyes were wide, wider as they glanced over the dried drips of blood surrounding each letter. This couldn't be happening. No, it couldn't be. You jumped up from the bed in alarm.

"No, no, no no-"

Tension coiled in your stomach, and you stumbled backwards once your hands dropped from your top. You cupped your hands over your nose and mouth, chest heaving with every panting breath, another wave of panic washing over you. You fell back against the wall, shaking like a leaf caught in a storm. You whimpered half-words that morphed into snarls of frustration, strained gasps falling from your lips as hot tears streaked your cheeks.

Your face was pressed firmly in your hands as you sunk against the wall, eyes clamped shut, though the tears poured freely over the grimace hidden behind your hands. Wordless, your thoughts tore you from the inside out and you pressed your knees into your chest as the open space compressed you into something so small, so helpless. Slow, forceful, steady, you forced your desperate lungs to draw in air so slowly you thought you might pass out. You felt dizzy, and your stomach gave a wretched lurch as nausea tickled the back of your throat. A choked sob escaped you as your heart thudded in your ears. You didn't want this. You didn't want any of this. How could you be so naive? To think it wouldn't reach this point? Your quickening breath was all that could be heard in the silence of the room. Every muscle in your body taut and hard, you were cowering, closing your eyes and then snapping them open again in hopes that this was all a dream.

It wasn't.

Minutes passed before you removed your face from your hands, breathing slowly returning to normal, only a small hitch every now and then. You stared at nothing in particular, leaning back against the wall.

You had to get out of here. You had to, while you still could. You should have known it would come to this. If you hurried, you could make it.

Rushing over to the window, you nearly stumbled before unlocking it with clumsy hands.

"Ah, ah, ah, where do you think you're going doll? Don't tell me you're having seconds thoughts about staying here."

The sound of that oh-so familiar voice stunned you for a moment. You slowly glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the predatory grin on his face, all sharp teeth and full of mockery. A shiver ran down your spine, but you figured it was better to run for it, rather than voice your protest, and just where you were about to climb out the window - a firm grip on your hair jerked you backwards, making you yelp and fall back on the bed.

"Aw what's the matter? I thought you liked it when I pulled your hair," he taunted with a laugh. He reached his hand out to stroke your face but you instantly smacked it away.

"You're so fucking sick, get away from me," you spat, a scowl on your face. "Don't you dare touch me," you warned.

You stood up and made an attempt to run for it again but then you felt a hand wrapped around your throat, backing you up into the wall, threatening to take away your air. "Oh now you don't want me anymore? Did I go overboard? You wanna run away now, back to Mommy and Daddy so they can protect you again?" he jeered, the words coming straight from his throat as a vile smile formed on his face that didn't reach his eyes.

You tried to speak but only a strained curse escaped under a heavy breath. You wiggled a little bit Jerome had you effectively pinned down with his weight.

"Oh boo hoo. Why the long face? You don't like it? You know, I don't think I've ever seen my name look so pretty before. The mess of the blood just adds to the beauty of it. Does it still burn?" he asked with a demented chuckle, his other hand wandering underneath the hem of your top, fingers brushing over the carving before he pressed down mercilessly, bursting out in a fit of laughter when he saw you screech and your stomach clench. "Looks like it still does, don't worry, it'll stop, eventually," he mocked.

"You motherfucker," you croaked, barely managing to get the words out.

"Huh? What was that?" he asked, his voice sounding as if he was genuinely curious, eyebrows creasing. "Speak up, you little bitch," he rasped, his demented rage erupting. He gripped your throat even tighter to emphasize his threat. You reached out to grab onto his wrists, desperately trying to push them away but to no avail.

"I-" you tried to speak, gasping for air. You saw nothing but his hatred pouring, ablaze, scorching into you from his now darkened eyes. It filled your vision, nothing but those two eyes, once crinkling with mirth and adoration, now only twisted into a terrified, horrific rage that inflamed him.

"I said, speak up, you were screaming like a little fucking whore just hours ago, where's your voice now, huh?" he seethed, his blood boiling. There were nails digging into your neck, burning pressure on your windpipe, no air getting past his crushing hold on your throat, red blossoming there. You were overwhelmingly dizzy, body thrashing helplessly under his hold. You clawed at his hands, but he only increased the pressure, your throat clamping down and darkness crept in. There was saliva trailing out of the corner of your lips, hair tangled up. Tongue loose, feels too thick, too big in your mouth.

"What were you trying to do huh? Play me for a fool?" he roared, words dripping with venomous hatred. "Saying, 'I'm yours, I'm yours, you can do anything to me and I want you, I want everything," he told you, mimicking the tone of your voice. "You fucking liar, if that was true, then why were you trying to leave? I don't do well with mixed signals, dollface," he rasped, eyes screaming with hatred.

Your legs kicked out, to fight for your life, fight for that quick breath of air that your lungs desperately needed. Your fingers searched for his neck, to strangle him back, to make him loosen up, to cut off his own flow or air. But there was no strength behind your fingers. Your hands barely grazed against his neck, falling limply to your sides.

You felt ice freeze up in your veins, you're cold inside, eyes drifting shut. When he realizes that you were about to pass out, his hands loosened and then let go of your neck. Your eyes snap open instantly, explosive coughs wrecked your body and you gasped when you fell to the floor with a thud, gulping down air. The sudden rush of oxygen was dizzying, your vision blackening and whitening, sparks flying across your eyes, stars blinkering. Muffled noises faded out, and returned tenfold.

"You're still that scared, helpless little girl, nothing's changed," he said as he knelt down on the floor above you, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek, and you were far too weak to struggle. "Poor thing," he added, his tongue clicking in disapproval. "I had such high hopes for you, too."

"Fuck you," you answered in a whisper.

"Oh you'd love that, wouldn't you, even now," he replied in a dark tone, lifting your chin up with a finger to lock gazes with you.

"Don't touch me," you murmured, body trembling in terror and pain as you stared back at him with narrowed eyes.

"Oh don't play the victim, dollface, we both know you aren't one. You enjoy being with me, you love it, it's the excitement you've been craving in your life, and you know it. So don't pretend that you can't stand the sight of me," he told you, the gruffness of his voice making a chill run down your spine. "You knew exactly what I was up to, and that wasn't enough to scare you away, but this is?" he barked out, his hand snaking underneath your top, caressing each letter with his finger, making you shudder violently.

"You're insane, that's all you've ever been; insane," you quavered, your voice cracking.

He merely shook his head at your words, then spoke up, "You know, there's something I've been wanting to tell you, but I haven't yet, just because I didn't think you'd care much," he teased, pulling his hand back to stroke it through your disheveled hair.

"What, what is it?" you asked, your body tensing up and flinching as he continued touching you. You were still unable to push him away, just allowing yourself to rest for a moment.

"Not too long ago, I was going to blow up a bus full of feeble teenagers, from your school, Gotham High, you remember that school, right?" he asked, and you merely hung your head down, a grimace on your face as you averted his gaze. "Well anyway, they were going to burn to a crisp while you were just chilling in here, where you were supposed to be, isn't that comforting to know? That I would do that to them, but not to you? No, not you, I don't want to hurt you, doll," he said, sounding sickly fond of you.

Your eyes widened when he revealed that to you, your breath coming in shallow puffs before you were able to reply. "Y - You killed them? You killed my friends?"

You were devastated, this wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't supposed to go this far. You were far too gullible to believe it wouldn't reach this point.

"No, unfortunately not, Jimbo showed up, so it was a bit of a shit show, but it wasn't a biggie because I found another headline, anyway," he admitted with a shrug. "It's actually a little embarrassing admitting that," he said, a mock-pout on his face. You breathed a sigh of relief at that. They were okay. "Besides, wouldn't have mattered, you're here with me now," he cooed, sounding somewhat gentle.

"Stop saying that. I'm not yours," you replied in a shaky voice. "I don't want anything to do with you."

"I had to ruin you dollface, that way everyone knows exactly who you belong to, so you don't go fornicating with anyone else, so no one dares to taint you," he snarled, letting go of your hair to brush the injured skin with feather-light touches that still had you whining in the back of your throat.

"That's what this is all about? You think you own me and can do whatever you want with me, now?" you snapped.

"You gave yourself to me, the second I took you back here, that's all you've ever been since, mine, only mine," he leaned in, whispering the words against your ear before placing a kiss there. "Thought I put it close to your heart so you don't ever forget it," he mocked with a laugh.

"It's over now, I came to my senses, I don't want anything to do with you," you piped, pulling up to your feet in a rush. You had to get out of here. "Go to hell, you sicko. I don't ever want to see you again."

He stood up with you the second you did, his grin somehow growing wider. "Aw, does this mean we're breaking up? I always imagined that we would be the kind who would have earth-shattering breakup sex," he cracked up, acting as if this situation was a practical joke.

You lurched forward and smacked him across his face with a hand, the impact of it making his head whip back, the suddenness making him far from prepared.

"Get over yourself you sick fuck," you hissed, fuming with a coldness that took over.

"Hit me again, do it, show me you're not scared," he demanded, and that mockery of a laugh did nothing but heighten your motions, stirred your anger until you burned up with it. You smacked him again and again while he guffawed, getting off on your misery. "Again, harder! Stop going easy on me!" he shouted, his cheeks reddening with each strike but he still encouraged you to keep going.

"Shut up!" you yelled, hot tears blurring your vision as you slapped him harder, mustering as much force as you could in each one. "This is not funny! I hate you!"

You hit him until your hand stung intensely, and he reveled in seeing you so enraged, so consumed with it. You scratched him across his cheek with your nails until you broke the skin and blood streaked down his face, pushing him back against the wall with a loud thud that rung across the room. He was still laughing, his eyes watering up in his merriment.

"Fuck you, Jerome! Fuck you!" you sobbed, tears pouring down your face, but you didn't care how pathetic you looked, all you cared about was hurting him like he hurt you. You could feel your heart ache, drum, thud, your blazing blood not cooling in the slightest.

He wiped the blood on his face with a hand as he stayed pressed against the wall, creating a smudge across his cheek. "Aw is that all you got? Tired already? You were always weak, doll. It's such a shame. I wish I could say I expected more from you, but I really didn't," he jested, leaning his head back as a sneer spread across his face, nothing but amusement in his laugh. "Go ahead. Run, run away, that's what you've been doing for your whole life, anyway," he jeered.

You shot him a glower before you stormed off, climbing out the window and rushing down the darkened streets.

"Be sure to say hi to Jimbo for me!" he called out, making sure he was loud enough for you to hear him.

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you, darting forward and thinking about how all you wanted was to come back home, to the safe arms of your mother and father, that was where you belonged. Not here. Anywhere but here. Your neck throbbed painfully from his ghosting hand crushing down on it. Your stomach flared up, tears slipping down your face, but you didn't care, none of it mattered, all that mattered was returning home. You didn't know your way back, but you were determined to find it. You glanced behind you frequently, only to see if the ginger was chasing you. He wasn't. That was a relief.

The lamp posts did little to illuminate the streets, but you were sure you could still make it. You stumbled in your haste, nearly falling to your knees on occasion but again it didn't matter. When you spotted a taxi, your eyes lit up and you took off like a shot. You waved at it frantically, calling out to the car. Everything was going to okay.

But then all of a sudden you felt a hand and a cloth clamping down on your mouth as you were pressed tight to the body it belonged to. An arm wrapped itself around your waist, holding you close, squeezing you and locking you in place. Thrashing about helplessly, you screamed against the hand, but it only tightened around your jaw. You faintly heard the voice behind you hushing you. You kicked and kicked, though it was futile. You inhaled the potent scent that was on the cloth, and you started to feel lightheaded only momentarily until you passed out and fell slack into their arms. The sound of a malicious laugh was the last thing you heard before everything turned to black.

"Don't you worry doll, we aren't done playing just yet, no. I'm not ready to say goodbye to you. There's still so much we have to do together!"


	8. Family Game Night

When you woke up, dazed and disoriented, the first thing you heard was the sound of muffled groaning. The room was blurry and you constantly fluttered your eyes, your head pounding relentlessly. You noticed that you were on the floor of your living room, and for a moment you found comfort in that because it kept your slowly reawakening mind at bay before the memory sank back in, about everything that took place before. A piercing shriek across the room nearly made you jolt, skin crawling in alarm at the sound. Colors burst in your vision, and it hurt, making you blink rapidly to try and reclaim the use of your sight again.

Your parents were bound next to each other in separate chairs, their wrists and ankles restrained with thick duct tape, mouths sealed tight with it. They were thrashing about, screams tearing from their throats. You coughed, rising to your feet, and with your vision clearing you realized; this was very real.

"Mom?" you croaked. "Dad?"

When you saw your helpless parents, your heart became lead. You rushed to their side, stumbling on your way there. Steadying yourself, head spinning, you tried to remove the duct tape that bound their wrists with shaky hands while they rapidly shook their heads in protest, though your main focus remained on helping them. But then you heard the sound of footsteps against the floor and you immediately froze.

"Look who's awake! Rise and shine, dollface!" the ginger roared with laughter as he made his way into the room, prancing about. Leslie looked up at him with terror in her eyes while Jim was glowering, puffing through the tape, and they both continued to flail in their chairs.

"How could you do this? They didn't do anything you fucking sicko!" you shouted, your fierce eyes gleaming with a boiling rage, lip curled in frustration, brows furrowed.

"I thought it was time that we all finally got together. I'm a little hurt that you never invited me here, seems homely enough," he said with a mock-pout, turning his head to glance about the place. With a hand on your chest, he pushed you back and stood in front of your parents, grin wide and sickly smug. "I got into a little trouble when we first met, so I thought maybe we could all start over, water under the bridge, you know," he taunted. You stumbled back, a frown marring your features as you stared back at him in sheer disgust.

"Let them go," you demanded hoarsely, your eyes filled to the brim with tears, and you tried to blink them back but that didn't stop them from pouring anyway.

"Where's your manners, doll? I didn't hear a please," he teased as he took a step towards you, brows raised in question.

You loathed seeing your parents who you always looked up to, so defenseless and hopeless, it made you feel sick. You never should have let this happen. None of this should be happening. This all felt like a nightmare, and you were just waiting for the moment that you would wake up. Any second now.

"Please don't hurt them, please," you begged through gritted teeth, voice cracking.

Jerome tilted his head to the side, as if in thought before he answered, "Now what would be the fun in that? C'mon, don't be such a killjoy, doll."

"They did nothing, this is about us, not them, leave them out of it," you croaked, stuttering in between harsh breaths.

"This has everything to do with them. They're the ones holding you back," he rasped, his words coming straight from his throat, pointing his finger at their direction while he stood in front of you. "You're still that little girl who's dependent on their Mommy and Daddy, who's waiting for their approval in all things, who still needs to be protected," he hissed, and a chill ran down your spine upon the emphasis on that last word. "That ends tonight, cause we are going to play a couple of games. I guess you could call it family game night," he mocked, his smirk dangerously wide.

Your mother's muffled groans pierced your ears, making it difficult to focus on anything but those sounds. You clamped your eyes shut, then opened them again and again, hoping that you would wake up if you just concentrated harder. Still nothing. There was no getting out of this. You couldn't have imagined a worse situation. You glanced back at Jim once you realized that he was near silent now, and he was trying to calm Leslie down with his eyes. Maybe he was finding a way out of this, maybe if you could just stall Jerome.

"No, no, don't do this, please, don't," you pleaded, tears rushing down your cheeks as your whole body shook in terror.

"Don't do what? We haven't even started," he taunted, the sound of his shrilling laughter echoing in your ears. "Don't you still want to be free like me, dollface? Isn't that why you chose to stay with me in the first place? I know you still want that, don't deny it just because they're here," he jeered, nodding his head towards your parents' direction. "Aw, wait, they didn't know about that, right? Oops, looks like the secret's out!" he shouted, making you flinch involuntarily. "The 'poor' girl was never kidnapped, contrary to what the news made it out to be, or what Daddy and Mommy thought."

"You're a psychopath, I don't want to be anything like you," you spat, your body quivering. Your chest was icy with dread, and you felt your heart beat in your head, your blood pumping slowly and loudly in your ears like an unsteady drum. Choking on poisonous terror as you struggled to remain breathing, and you could feel your sense of reality gagging on the vile truths sneaking through you, slicking into your tongue. Feeling sick with alarm and preemptive denial, lip trembling as your skin buzzed. You turned to glance back at both of your parents, and you noticed they had a look on their faces like they didn't want to believe it but deep down they knew it was true.

"I want what's best for you, doll, I really do," he told you somewhat sympathetically as he reached over to stroke your cheek with his hand, and the second it made contact with your skin you smacked it away, making the look on his face switch to a scowl.

"No you don't, you never did," you disagreed. Your eyes stung and your insides felt like a damp, empty grave.

"That's why we are going to play a little game. I got a gift for you," he told you with a laugh, and he whipped out a pistol from its sheath on his pants. Your eyes widened once the firearm was handed to you, but you refused to accept it. "Aw, what's wrong? Forgot how to hold a gun?" he mocked. Your hands were shaking, and then he shoved it in your hand because you wouldn't grab it. "Stay with me doll, c'mon, it's family game night, and we need you, I need you," he jested, patting your cheek with a hand. Those last three words would have met something if they didn't sound like sheer mockery and wasn't under these sick circumstances.

"No, I don't want any part of this, please stop this," you protested.

"I haven't even told you the rules yet! Patience, doll!" Jerome exclaimed.

Jerome skipped over to your parents and ripped the tape from their mouths with one quick pull, and he merely laughed when they both gasped. "That's better, now you two may speak. Say, do you like games, Jimbo?"

"You son of a bitch! If you lay another finger on her, I'll kill you, I swear to God," Jim warned, the words bubbling up from his throat as he thrashed about. "Just let her go," he demanded hoarsely as he gave Jerome the dirtiest look Jerome had ever seen.

"Hm, how about you, Leslie?" Jerome asked with a tilt of his head.

"Just stop this, Jerome. Please, you don't have to do this," Leslie pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

"Jim, that's not the tone I would use if I were you, see Leslie has the right idea, but still, not gonna happen, just get comfy in your seats for now," Jerome jeered, and then he made his way back to your side. "Now who is it going to be? Daddy or Mommy? Pick one. Take too long and well, I'll blow both their brains out," he deadpanned, then he broke out in a fit of laughter. "Was that over the top? I can never tell!"

"What?" you asked, and your hands were trembling so much now that you could barely keep a grip on the gun. "You're crazy, you can't expect me to-"

"What did I say, dollface? Do I have to repeat myself?" he piped, standing over you and watching the way your whole body tensed up. "Shouldn't be too hard. Just choose one or the other. You're never going to be free with them around. C'mon, you don't want to be held down anymore, correct? Do something about it then," he laughed, finding your plight to be quite the joke. "Let's spice things up," he added, rubbing his hands together.

"Please don't make me do this, please don't," you begged, "I can't, please, just let them go. I never wanted this."

"Aw, don't start with me," he chuckled, swaying his finger in disapproval. "As much as I'd love to kill them both myself, this is about you dollface, not me. You have to be the one that pulls the trigger, otherwise this was all for naught."

"Jerome, you don't have to do this, okay, there has to be something else you want," Leslie tried to bargain with him, but he merely laughed in response.

"You sick bastard!" Jim shouted. "There's no way in hell you'll ever get away with this. We'll come at you with everything we have, and we won't stop until you're dead."

"Kill one, the other gets spared. Don't do anything, they both die, and well I'll decide what I want to do with you, doll," he replied, stepping closer to your side.

"I can't do that to them, I can't-"

"Why can't you? What's holding you back huh? Do it. You'll feel liberated the second you pull that trigger, just press it, do something for yourself for once," he told you in a rasp, and his words made the hair on the back of your neck stand up in alarm.

"Y/N, take a deep breath. It's alright. It's all going to be alright, I love you, hold onto that," Jim assured with a smile that faltered the second it crossed his face. "Lee, you're going to be fine."

"Who knew family night could be so much fun? The suspense is killing me!" he cracked up, making Jim's face twist up in sheer disgust.

"Jim, no, what are you saying? Please don't, you can't, no," Leslie begged, choking on each word, and it was hardly coherent through her harsh sobs. "Jerome, we'll do anything you want. Please. Anything but this."

"Hmmm, let me think about that for a sec," Jerome mocked, his hand on his chin as he pretended to muse. "Tempting offer. Not!" he exclaimed.

"No, I can't do that to you, Dad. I can't. Please, don't- don't say that," you wailed your broken plea, and tears fell hot on your face, stinging your skin but it all didn't matter.

"Oh look, even in his last moments he's telling you what to do, dollface, don't let him make the choice for you, I thought you were your own person!" he burst out in shrilling laughter once more, watching you all fall apart in front of him.

"Shut up you fucking asshole," you wept between choked gasps, your hands quivering and sweating as you struggled to keep a hold on the gun.

"Boo hoo, crybaby. Stop acting like this hasn't once crossed your mind," he claimed, and then he turned to face Jim. "Don't you worry Jimbo, I'm a man of my word, I won't do any harm to your girls, as long as you make this noble sacrifice."

You rushed to Jim and embraced him in your arms as you bawled your eyes out, and you knew he would have returned the hug if he was capable of doing so.

"Just - just take a deep breath, Y/N, it's going to be fine," Jim said as you cried into his shoulder.

"Let's pick up the pace, Jimbo, I don't have all day," Jerome derided. "You too, doll, clock's ticking. Do you think one more minute will be enough for you two?" he asked with a tilt of his head, a look of annoyance on his face as if this was some minor inconvenience.

You wanted to scream at Jerome to shut up, but instead you only focused on the sound of your father's still beating heart and hugged him closer to your body. Leslie continued to wail, her breaths coming in short, sobbed gasps, and she fruitlessly begged Jerome for mercy.

"I can't, dad. I can't. I could never do this to you-"

"It's okay, I know you can do this. Just know that I love you," he assured with a sad smile on his face.

"No, Jim, no, you can't let him win. I love you so much, we can't do this without you," Leslie told Jim, tears pouring persistently in hot streams. Jim wore a frown, and he could barely look at his wife in the eye.

"What a lovely family reunion! I'm getting misty over here," Jerome chimed in, pretending as if he shed a tear, and wiped a finger over his eye. "This is so hard to watch."

"Shut the fuck up!" you piped, turning around and pointing the gun at Jerome's direction now, aiming it at his head. "You're the one I'm going to kill, you fucking asshole! I won't let you take my family away from me. I already lost one, I can't lose another, I can't go through that again," you screamed.

Jerome merely grinned and whipped out his own gun from behind him, stepping closer and pointing it at your head as well.

"Go ahead, do it. Kill me. You think that will solve all of your problems, correct?" he taunted, and took another daring step towards you. You flinched with the gun now tight in your grip, and you two remained face to face. Tension was thick in the air, wrapping itself around you and mercilessly suffocating you.

"I'm not going to play your sick game, you piece of shit. I refuse," you quavered as you bawled, words falling between heavy pants.

"That's a shame, no biggie. Hey dollface, I got another surprise for you, though. See those little devices attached to Mommy's and Daddy's chairs?" he nudged his head towards their direction. You instantly turned to look, ice filling your veins when you saw the devices fastened underneath their chairs. "They are going to blow up in approximately two minutes. Like I said, time's a-wastin'. So, go ahead and shoot me, and poof! They'll all be gone too! But do as Jimbo says, and well, you'll just lose him, and you and Leslie won't be a pile of burned up ashes."

"You fucker! Turn it off!" you shouted hoarsely. "Turn it off now!"

"Play by my rules, doll. Kill the stupid cop and then I'll shut them down," Jerome explained, a big smug grin stretched across his face.

"Y/N, stop it! We can't let him do that. You have to hurry, Y/N, you have to, or else you'll both be dead. Just listen to me, okay? Lower the gun, " Jim coached, and you lowered your gun from Jerome, taking a harsh breath that did nothing to calm your rapid heartbeat. "Turn it towards me," he proposed, and you complied to what your father said.

"Ever shot a gun before, doll? I could show you a trick or two," Jerome suggested with a burst of laughter.

Leslie was completely incoherent in her pleas for this to end, but you were vaguely aware of it with the current state you were in. You could barely even hear what Jim was saying, but all you knew was that he was ordering you to kill him, to get this all over with so you and Leslie would be safe. Jerome stood by your side while you stayed at a fair distance from Jim, your finger hooking itself around the trigger in preparation. This was his 'game', he had set the rules, so you knew that meant there was no possible way you could win.

You gulped your whirling trepidation, feeling it gurgle and hiss in the pit of your stomach. You breathed in and out, very slowly. You were numb. You couldn't feel your throat. It was as though an invisible force was strangling you into breathlessness and resignation into frailty. Moving instinctively, barely aware of your own movements and unable to feel your fingertips. You were sinking inside of yourself. Your sight blurred and you blinked back too many tears as the world around you practically buckled. The rush of your pulse was loud in your ears, and your heart drummed on the inside of your skull with such ferocity. You examined the look on your father's face, and it was one that you knew you would remember for the rest of your life.

Bang!


	9. Game Over

Your eyes were shut tight the moment you hooked your finger around the trigger and pressed it, fully aware that this was it. Just like that, it was all over. There was no turning back now. Leslie gasped aloud when you pulled the trigger, her eyes wide with horror.

Though, you didn't hear that familiar boom you expected to. It was more of a simple clicking noise. When your eyes snapped back open, your heart caught in your throat. How...

A short red flag emitted from the gun, the bold word 'bang!' printed on it. Realization was quick to hit you, and it felt like a rock sinking into the pit of your stomach. This was all a sick joke, just a game, set up for his twisted sense of amusement. Jerome roared with laughter, the shrill sound piercing your ears. You staggered backwards and dropped the gun, hand clamped over your mouth as your whole body trembled.

"Bang, bang, bang!" Jerome cracked up. "Oh, you should have seen the look on your face, doll! It was a sight to see."

"What the hell is wrong with you? You sick bastard," Jim huffed out.

"Jim! Oh god, Jim," Leslie wept, a smile crossing her face before it faltered. Jim met her gaze, eyes filled with dread. He knew this wasn't over.

You couldn't speak. You were still in shock, and you swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, cheeks stained with tears. You stared wide-eyed at the gun before you, and you only felt a sense of relief for a few moments before it all came crashing down on you what you could have done. Then you remembered the bomb and panicked about how much time you had left.

"What – what about the bomb?" you asked, your voice wavering.

"Oh that? Don't you worry, there's no time limit. No, I prefer ones that instantly go off with the click of a button!" he exclaimed, whipping out a remote with his finger upon the button.

"No!" you and your parents shrieked out almost in unison once he brought out the controller. Jerome merely shook his head with a laugh.

"Fun's not over yet, the night is still young," he said, waving his hand towards their direction with a playful roll of his eyes.

"Let us go, please!" Leslie cried, begging Jerome to have mercy on you all.

"And I was going to give you a real gun dollface, but you know I always get a kick outta messing with you," Jerome jeered, the room filled with his laughter, making you nearly jump at the sound. "But now for the real action!" he exclaimed. "I always wondered who a father cared about more, his daughter or his wife, who would he choose if he could only save one? I guess we'll find out today, huh?" he gasped to act as if he was surprised about the turn of events.

Jerome skipped over to Jim's side and untied one of his wrists hastily before he pulled out a gun from his sheath. "Now, this is a real gun, so don't second-guess that, wanna see?" he questioned, and before anyone could answer he shot the table lamp across the room, the shattered pieces flying abruptly. "This one ain't a ruse, folks."

"No, please not this again," Leslie wailed, writhing in her chair.

"Jerome, no, don't, haven't you done enough?" you shouted, a heavy sob tearing from your throat.

Jerome mused for a second before he shook his head in response to that. He dropped the gun in Jim's free hand, a vile grin stretched across his face. "Who'll it be, Jimbo? The woman you're sleeping with, or the little girl who just can't stay out of trouble?" Jerome asked, there was nothing remotely human about his eyes. "Choice is yours, but just a reminder, don't take too much time or else you'll bore me. And I've got this for when I do get bored," he hummed as he shook the controller to the bombs fastened underneath their chairs.

"Jerome, why are you doing this? Please, please, no more," you cried, breaths coming in quick pants.

"There's no way in hell I'm choosing between them, you're out of your goddamn mind!" Jim yelled in protest. "Stop this sick game of yours, Jerome, now. Do what you want with me, but let them go."

"How righteous of you, Jimbo, really. I'm afraid that's not one of the choices though, but nice attempt, I almost feel bad," he said in a faux mockery of concern. "That's why we need to get this show on the road or else I'm going to have second thoughts," he shook his head and sighed heavily, "this is a real tearjerker."

You knew Jim wasn't going to pull the trigger on you or your mother, because he couldn't live with himself if he made a decision like that nor could he accept defeat that easily. Jim held onto the gun, and with everything he had he was fighting not to shoot Jerome because he knew if he let his emotions get the best of him that he would lose both of you in an instant, so that was out of the question. There wasn't a chance of him choosing you or Leslie, so Jerome wouldn't get that sick satisfaction, but then you thought of how you made that choice, you were going to kill your father, and if the gun hadn't been a fake then he wouldn't be alive.

"There has to be something we can do, there has to be. I would do anything, just please, let them go, let my baby go, let Jim go," Leslie continued to plead, even though she knew it was futile, she still tried. Your mother never gave up, no matter how difficult things got, and this horrific situation was no different.

"Would you all just stop with the 'kill me, not them!' it was cute at first, but now it's just getting old," Jerome retorted in a vexed tone, rolling his eyes. "Get on with it, Jimbo," he rasped, his husky voice sending a chill down your spine.

"No, I couldn't possibly choose, I couldn't do that to them," Jim snapped, taking a deep breath as beads of sweat rolled down his face. He looked back at Leslie, then at you, his eyes filled with dread. His face read that he didn't know what was going to happen, but he was silently telling you both that he loved you. That was something you had to hold onto.

"Hm, maybe you need some help coming to a verdict, no biggie," Jerome chuckled as he made his way over to Leslie's side, kneeling next to her and pulling out a scalpel from his back pocket. Leslie instantly flinched, attempting to back away as much as she could.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Jim yelled out.

"Killing time of course," Jerome remarked. Leslie sobbed harder when Jerome leaned close and grabbed her jaw firmly with a hand, making her face him. His fingernails dug into her skin, leaving pale red marks. "Having fun?"

"You son of a bitch, you'll pay for this," she hissed.

Jerome merely hummed and twirled the scalpel in his other hand before he pressed the cool steel against Leslie's cheek. "Hey Jimbo, can I ask your advice on something? Don't you think she'd be prettier if I skinned her alive?" Jerome mocked, the sounds of their cries only egging him on.

"Jerome, don't you dare hurt her!" you begged, voice hoarse from screaming.

When you made a move to run over to Jerome to stop him, Leslie screamed, "No, don't!" she croaked. "Don't come over here."

"Enough!" Jim shouted louder.

"Made up your mind, yet?" Jerome asked, sounding sickly amused. "Tick tock, tick tock Jimbo!"

Jerome didn't wait for Jim to answer, instead he slid the blade down Leslie's cheek in one abrupt, quick movement. Leslie groaned in agony from the sharp sting, wincing profusely, and the next thing she knew he was slicing her other cheek. Her screeches pierced your ears, while you and Jim both screamed out in horror, demanding him to stop. The tears she cried only stung her face more, making the pain unbearable, but they were falling freely despite herself.

"Now it looks like you're crying blood!" Jerome laughed, turning her head so Jim could look at his handiwork. "Almost like a sad clown! What do you think Jimbo?"

"You motherfucker!" Jim bellowed, his face marred with an intense mixture of fear and hate, it was something you couldn't bear to see. It all felt like a nightmare, but you knew you weren't going to wake up, that was the worst part. Leslie's face was covered in blood, knot, and tears as she kept her head down. She never looked so sad, so pained, so hurt. You knew the looks on their face would be forever burned into your mind, it was unshakable, unforgettable.

You had to do something.

"Jerome, stop, stop, I'll do anything you say, anything at all, just no more! Don't hurt them anymore!" you quavered, sobbing the words out.

Jerome slowly turned his head at that, a wicked smirk crossing his face while your parents begged you not to get involved but unfortunately for them their pleas fell on deaf ears.

"No! No!" Leslie sniveled as Jerome rubbed his chin in thought, the smile on his face stretching wider.

Jim's hand was shaking so much that he nearly dropped the gun and Jerome stood up, walking over to snatch it from him, burying it back in his sheath. "I'll be taking that. I've got a better idea."

Jerome stepped in front of you and examined you for a fleeting moment, your body tensed up as you stared back at room was dark, but there was still enough moonlight entering through the windows that you two could still see each other. You didn't know what was on his mind, and you didn't think you wanted to know. He was almost impossible to read.

"You can do whatever you want with me, I don't care. Just please don't hurt them anymore," you told him, a softer look on your face.

"Cute. But it doesn't make up for the bad attitude earlier, doll. Nope, sorry," Jerome snickered, shaking his finger in disapproval. "I oughta teach you some manners, you know, just so you know your place from now on."

"Don't you touch her, don't you go anywhere near her!" Leslie shouted. "You-"

Before Leslie could finish her sentence Jerome stood behind her and poked a syringe into her neck. She thrashed and moaned in agony before her head drooped down in defeat, the drug successfully leaving her unconscious.

"What did you do to her?" Jim roared as he twisted in his binds. "You bastard! What did you do to her?" he repeated in a louder scream while you echoed them as well.

"That bitch was really starting to get on my nerves," Jerome answered in a vexed tone. "Another word from her and I was gonna go mental," he punctuated his point by wiggling his finger towards his head.

"She'll be okay right? Please tell me she's okay, that it wasn't fatal," you pleaded, trying to convince yourself that she would be alright.

"Oh, and we'll just have to see when she wakes up. If she wakes up," he said with a cackle. "I just gave her a little dosage of shut-the-fuck-up. She really put a damper on the mood," he added as he walked behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders before caressing them. His touch immediately made you shiver. "Don't you worry, it won't kill you just to relax a little."

"I just need to know she's okay. That's all," you repeated in a soft voice.

Jerome didn't give you an answer, simply hummed in response.

Jim looked back at Leslie with a frown as he writhed in the chair, still attempting to break free from the binds even though it was futile. Jim knew that, but he wasn't one to give up.

"Eyes over here, Jimbo, yoo-hoo!" Jerome called for Jim, and Jim immediately snapped his head back to you. "You're not gonna wanna miss this."

Jim's eyes widened in horror as he watched the way Jerome stroked your shoulders and arms while he stood behind you.

"You get your hands off her now!" Jim yelled, his chair rocking back and forth as he twisted about in it. "I'll kill you for this, I swear to God."

"Don't test me, Jimbo!" Jerome countered, pulling his gun out and pointing it at the side of your head. "This is my game, so I make the rules, and you two have to play along."

"Dad, it's okay, just don't," you warned, and the muzzle against your head sent a series of chills down your spine, your throat closing up.

"We can't let him win," Jim told you, his words laced with worry.

"Hm, or maybe you'd prefer if I blew your brains out and killed the girl with your dead body," he rasped out the threat. "I don't think that would be fun for either of you," Jerome taunted, his laugh resounding in the room. You stood frozen, eyes widening in terror when those words came out of his mouth. A cold sweat forming at the back of your neck.

"No, no, no!" Jim cried out, his eyes hard and cold.

"I'm joking! Can't anyone in this family take a joke? Geeze, you guys are in serious need of some family therapy," he teased, shaking his head as if he seriously couldn't understand Jim's rage in this situation.

You suddenly felt Jerome's hand on your back and he pushed you forward to one of the floor-length windows in the corner. You stumbled and nearly fell to the ground but you managed to balance your body to stand back up. Jerome started humming away and handed you another remote that you didn't even bother to see where it came from. This one had several different buttons and the very sight of it was enough to make your heart boom rapidly with an overwhelming sense of dread. You faintly heard Jim screaming at Jerome as you felt yourself becoming light-headed with anxiety. It took you a moment to regain control and you bit your lower lip to the point where you could taste blood.

"See that police precinct near that elderly couple's house?" he leaned close to your ear as he explained. "I'm gonna need you to make it go ka-boom!"

"What?" you asked almost breathlessly, you felt like you had been running a marathon all day, and your legs were about to give out.

"You're gonna have to kill some po-po, so there's less cops in the area, you know? There's a few bombs I planted in there that only go off with the press of that button, and then it's bye bye!" he exclaimed next to your ear with a sick amount of joy to his tone. "It's as easy as 1-2-3. By the way, it's this shiny red button right here," he informed, grabbing your quivering index finger and setting it dangerously close to the big red button.

You clenched your sweaty hand into a fist, and your body ached from trying so hard to remain still. Your chest and back hurt from all the tension you were enduring, and you felt like every minute that passed brought you closer to a panic attack. Your anxiety was almost fully replaced by pure anger. You were angry that this was happening, angry that there was nothing you could do. You tried to blink away the tears but they kept pouring down your face.

"I-I can't do that. Please don't make me do that," your voice faltered, barely able to get the words out. "There has to be another way, please."

"Don't do anything he says!" Jim cried out, and with all the rocking he was doing in his chair it was a surprise he didn't fall to the ground.

"Am I gonna have to time you again, doll? We've been through this already. It's literally just a click of the button, but it looks like you're going to make this harder than it is," he sighed in disappointment, as if you were disobeying a simple everyday order.

You choked on the lump in your throat before you were able to respond, "I-I... Why are you doing this? Please just-"

"I'll make you a deal, dollface, and you know my word is good," he chuckled before continuing, "Get rid of those cops for me and this will all be over. I'll put an end to all the fun games we played tonight. It'll be game over, just like that!" he explained with a snap of his fingers. "I'd give you a pinky promise if your hands weren't shaking so much," he joked as he whispered it hoarsely in your ear. "And if you don't," his voice dropped to a much darker tone, "I can just as easily get rid of Mommy and Daddy, and make you do the dirty work. You know so it looks like you did it, that Crazy Orphan Girl killed her loving adoptive parents. I can see the headlines now."

"Let her go now!" Jim bellowed in the distance.

Boom!

You were done begging. You were done playing any more games. It was over. You pressed the button with one hard push and then in a second, the explosion had rocked through the building. The glow of flames flashed before your eyes and all you could do was watch as it engulfed in heavy smoke in the dark sky. You could hear the echos of the thunder as it crashed and burned. You vaguely heard your name being called by Jim mixed with Jerome's laughter but it all seemed so far away. You couldn't move. You were frozen as your eyes filled with hot tears that burned your skin. Everything seemed to fall on deaf ears as your gaze remained focused on the disaster in front of you. You knew a part of you died with them.

It was all over. Without even turning to look at Jim, you could picture the heartbreak on his face. It wasn't a look of disappointment when you failed to listen to his instructions, or the disheartened look he would give you when you two got into a heated argument about his overprotective behavior. No, he was crushed.

There was no coming back from this.

The room was dead silent from Jim's side, there was no rocking on his chair or any more yelling.

"You have to let her go, now," Jim demanded after a beat, his voice low yet firm.

The look on Jerome's face said that he was going to make a smart remark but before he could you spoke up. "Please-" you managed.

"Please, what?" Jerome questioned with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Please let them go," you pleaded and a sob broke your lips. Your heart ached and pounded so heavily you were certain you were about to pass out had this ordeal lasted a second longer.

"Well, I am a man of my word, and lil detective here already took care of my work for today!" Jerome piped. "This get-together was so much fun, we should do it again sometime!" Jerome cheered with a cackle. "Your daughter is so cooperative, you've raised a good one, Jimbo," he mocked, just to add more salt to the wound. He strolled over to Jim and smiled menacingly at him before he rid of his binds. When Jim was finally free, he wasted no time rushing towards you and embracing you. He was just thankful to have you in his arms and he held you as close as he could.

"Such a beautiful family reunion," Jerome commented, but you were vaguely aware of it. You felt numb even in your father's secure embrace, and you buried your face in his shoulder as your tears soaked up the material.

"We're going to be okay, Dad," you promised in a breathy whisper. His arms wrapped around you tighter and your body rapidly shook as you continued to sob brokenly. "I-"

You were unable to get the words out before the ear shattering blast of a gun exploded into the air. You heard it before you felt it. Trembling violently, you looked behind your right shoulder, eyes widening in alarm as scarlet bloomed on your shirt. You fell to the ground seconds later, shock numbing you to the core, so much so that you felt no pain. You gasped quietly, your breathing labored and shallow. You tried to speak but coughs rattled deep in your chest and your eyelids grew increasingly heavier and harder to keep open, your vision tunneling. You faintly heard the sound of your father screaming until everything went to black.


	10. Accept Me, Love Me

Your eyes snapped back open and you awoke with a sudden jolt. You glanced about the darkened hospital room, and you were quick to realize that you were dressed in a white hospital gown on the bed you knew you had been operated on. You were alive, so whatever happened you survived.

There was no one around. The entire room was empty. You wondered if your parents were okay, that was the first thought that came to mind. You had to find out what happened to them. Your head was fuzzy, and your throat felt scratched. You stared up at the ceiling with dull glassy eyes. Eyes that were tired, red, half closed, and underlined with dark circles. When you tried to move, pain blazed in your shoulder. You noticed that your right wrist was connected to an IV attached to a saline bag. When you were about to tear it off, you sensed a presence in the dark, like someone was lurking, prowling at the foot of your hospital bed. Yet when you glimpsed about, no one was there. You vaguely wondered if your brain was playing tricks on you. You made another move to leave the bed and then...

And then he's there, engulfing your field of vision and taking your face in his large, deadly hands with that same wicked grin you were sure you saw moments before you passed out. You flinched away from him immediately and panic overtook your body. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your blood ran cold. How did he get in here?

"Hey, how are you holdin' up, dollface? Looks like they patched you up pretty good, huh? No broken bones?" he said, chuckling lowly to himself.

Your mouth was curled into a frown, brows furrowed as you stared back at him. He brushed his thumb against the corner of your mouth, and you winced as he stroked your skin with a delicacy that contradicted everything that he stood for. His expression changed when you tried to move away from him, and then he examined the look on your face with a cold stare. You hated how he could switch to smiling like a clown and then turning dead serious. You exhaled deeply through your nose, and then avoided his unblinking gaze. You wanted to scream for help but you didn't know what he would do if you did so you kept silent.

"What... what are you doing here?" you asked meekly, your voice as low as a mumble.

"I thought I'd check up on you. Looks like you got yourself in a bit of a pickle," he sighed in what sounded like disappointment but then it was quickly followed by a puff of a laugh. He grabbed you by your cheek and made you face him, which made you flinch.

"You shot me. You're the reason I'm here," you told him bluntly, and you mentally cursed yourself when you could feel yourself getting choked up.

"Aw, do you think you can find it in your heart to forgive me for losing my temper? Maybe I did go a little overboard," he whispered in a dark tone. His spidery fingers made their way across your neck and to the curve of your injured shoulder, then your arm, chuckling as he felt the goosebumps that had risen on your tense skin. "You should have seen the look on your face when I went 'pow!'" he cheered and made a gun symbol with his hand to emphasize his point. "Oh, it's something I'll never forget."

"Are they okay? Please just tell me they are okay. That's all I care about," you pleaded, your voice breaking in between your words.

"I wouldn't wanna ruin the suspense, doll, that's for you to find out," he told you with a dangerous grin.

"I need to know, please, just tell me," you continued to beg.

"Nuh-uh, that would ruin all the fun of it!" he cackled, finding your predicament to be as amusing as ever.

You blinked back tears, and you could hear yourself breathing but you still felt choked, suffocated. You feared for your life being alone with him in a room, you just wanted to run out and cry for help, but that wouldn't get you anywhere, so you were stuck here. You hated how much power he had over you, and everyone you loved.

"Why? Why me?" you managed to get out even though you felt your throat closing up.

"Don't get all dramatic on me, you know how much that bores me. Now what's my motto again, dollface?" he asked as he scooted closer to you on the bed, his fingers slowly crawling back to your neck as he eyed you. You gulped hard and involuntarily flinched upon his touch.

"There's nothing more contagious than laughter," you quoted him after a brief moment, knowing it was better to just abide by what he wanted than to argue.

"That's the spirit!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "It's been scientifically proven that with a good laugh you'll be cured in no time. So it looks like you're stuck with me, eh?"

"You've successfully ruined my life. What more do you want from me? What else do you have to take?" your voice started to raise despite yourself. "Please, this isn't fair," you murmured.

"Aw, don't cry, you'll wrinkle that pretty little face of yours. C'mon, smile for me, like you used to," he replied, his tone somewhat sweet in a sickening way. "You know, we were good together. Actually, no, we are good together. 'Were' is past tense and we're definitely not a thing of the past."

"You don't own me, I'm not your doll, I'm not your anything, so just stop. You're sick. You belong in Arkham because you're nothing but a nut case. You just used me, for some twisted game. You never..." you trailed off, sucking your bottom lip in as your eyes welled up inevitably. You didn't want to speak another word because you knew if you did you would burst into tears and your humiliation would only serve to amuse him.

You were ashamed that a part of you, even if it was for a moment, believed he could possibly care about you. He was a monster. He didn't care about anyone but himself. You were just his prey, and he was having too much fun playing with said prey before he decided he was finished with it. You should have known better. Like a mouse, you fell right into the cat's trap.

"I think we both know that's not true," he answered with a overly dramatic pout that you were more than aware was mocking you. "You see, you're not just a toy to me. I would have gotten bored already if that was true," he added, staring back at you with that dangerous glint in those piercing blue-green eyes, inching closer and closer until you could feel his heated breath upon your parted lips. "You were just a sad little orphan girl without me, the goody-two-shoes that was too scared to break the rules, who always wanted to please Mommy and Daddy. It isn't like that when we're together. You like that. You like who you are when you're with me. We are going to have so many more good times together, doll," he told you, and you saw a flash of his sharp-toothed grin before leaning in to whisper against your ear, "and maybe I like who I am when I'm with you too."

You were speechless for a moment after he spoke those words, eyes widening in your surprise once they left his lips. You exhaled then inhaled to calm your rapid heartbeat and mentally cursed yourself for letting that last sentence affect you. It couldn't mean anything now. Not after everything. You weren't going to be his marionette that he pulled by the strings and played with however he wished. He had been manipulating you from that first day, and you were powerless to do anything about it, but now, his charm didn't seem to have the same effect. You were scared, angry, repulsed, and numb all at once.

He pulled away from your ear to look you in the eye, only to laugh at the way your jaw clenched and a frown formed on your face. The distance small enough that you could feel his hot breath over your mouth once more.

"Do you think things can go back to the way they used to? Breakfast in bed? Cuddling at night? Trying out all those stolen overpriced dresses and posing in them for me? Playing hide-and-seek and chasing each other around the penthouse? Scratching me so hard I bled as I pounded you into the mattress?" he started reminding you of all the good times that you two had that you know you shouldn't have had fun with, yet you still did anyway because he was somehow able to make everything exciting. You loathed how he had that kind of control over you, how he could lure you back in so easily because he always had a way with words. "I know you still want all of that, just as much as I do. All you gotta do is say the word!"

"No," you barely managed through a sob. "I never wanted any harm to come to them. I just need to know if they are okay, now. So just let me visit them," you spat, your throat scratchy.

"Hmmm," he started, acting as if he was actually considering it. "That sounds more like you're telling than asking, dollface. What's the magic words?" he asked while his eyes remained focused upon your own. His hand reached up to stroke your cheek, those long spidery fingers tracing your bruised skin. With a wince, you shot him a cruel glare upon his oddly affectionate gesture.

"Pretty please?" you hissed through gritted teeth, frustrated that he continued to kick you while you were down.

"I don't believe I'm the one you're supposed to be asking. Shouldn't there be a nurse around? A doctor, perhaps? Yeah they would probably know," he teased with a laugh, making you feel all the more pathetic for attempting to ask nicely.

"If you did anything else to them, I swear to God you're going to regret-"

"Fine, you want to see them so badly? You can," he cut you off before you could finish your threat. "So impatient as always I see. The buildup can be the best part, you know, it gives you something to work with, but nope, you're always in a rush to get to the climax!" he exclaimed with a burst of cruel laughter. Your jaw clenched and your features wrinkled further in aggravation at his choice of words.

"Want to see a magic trick, doll? he questioned with a tilt of his head. You raised your brows in confusion, wondering why the hell he would be asking something like that now. It didn't come as a surprise to you that he was still messing with you even with how disoriented you were. Before you had a chance to respond, Jerome snapped his fingers in front of you and in a second you weren't in the bleak hospital room anymore. Instead, you were in a familiar darkened living room. You were quick to realize that this was your living room, the one that belonged in your home.

The only light coming in was from the moonlight peeking through the blinds, faint and pale, but you still didn't have trouble making out your surroundings even after being gone for so long. As you made your way across the room, you took your time looking at all the happy family photos that hung on the wall and everything that made this place feel like home. This was where you were supposed to be, not in a penthouse full of convicts.

You only took a few more steps when you heard loud sobbing that echoed across the room. Immediately, you recognized that it was coming from a woman.

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Jim was pacing about the waiting room. He cursed under his breath in frustration because he had to wait to see how you were doing. His heart was beating frantically in his chest as he buried his face in his hands. He couldn't believe this was reality. He couldn't believe he let this happen. It was all his fault, that was all he could think about. That guilt consumed him, twisted and knotted relentlessly in his gut. Waiting for the doctor to arrive was slow, agonizing torture, and it ate away at him. He couldn't sit still, it was nearly impossible with his anxiety pumping in his veins, and the smell of your blood stained on his suit made him feel nauseous.

His eyes fluttered shut as his mind replayed the horrifying image of you falling from his arms. He knew the sound of that gunshot would stay with him forever. He recalled the tears streaming down your face and the way you weakly attempted to cling to him. After that, things were a blur, though he did clearly remember how panicked he felt when he knelt next to you and told you that everything would be alright while Jerome escaped the scene. He couldn't stop thinking about it, what happened just hours before played in a continuous loop, tormenting him again and again. With you and Leslie's lives in jeopardy, he knew he failed you both, and there was nothing he could do.

When the doctor arrived in the hallway, Jim immediately raced his way over to the middle-aged woman. With tears staining his face, he impatiently asked if you were okay. The doctor promised that you were going to be fine. The bullet had ploughed its way through the back of your shoulder blade and out through your collarbone, though it didn't hit any major arteries, so there was minimal bone shattering. Jim was so relieved, and in the first time today, he smiled. The doctor informed him that you were asleep but that he could still see you if he wanted, and Jim blurted out a 'yes' without giving it another thought.

The doctor led Jim to the hospital room, informing him about the morphine you were on and how long you would be staying here, but assured him that you were on your way to a speedy recovery. When the doctor left, Jim fully entered the room, where you were sleeping peacefully, or so he hoped. But your slumber was anything but peaceful.

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You followed the voice until you found the source; your mother. You didn't see Leslie crying often, it was a rare sight because she didn't like people to see her in such a vulnerable state. That strength was nowhere to be found in this moment.

She was hugging her knees tight to her chest, her tears staining the sleeves on her blouse as she wept. Her eyes were swollen, breath stuck in her throat, and her chest heaved as her head hung low.

You approached her slowly, with caution, like you would a frightened animal. You felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach from the sight of seeing her so helpless, so fragile, so utterly broken. It was almost too much to bear.

"Mom?" you asked, taking a long pause when she didn't answer or even bother looking up at you. "Mom... are you okay?" you repeated as you stood in front of her.

A chill went down your back when there was still no answer.

Her eyes continued to well up as she choked on her convulsive gasps, and she was looking down at nothing in particular. You stayed where you were, patiently, to give her as much time as she needed. You wanted to comfort her, embrace her, or say something that would help even the slightest bit, but every word that sat on your tongue, waiting to be uttered, just disappeared.

Soon, a blank, emotionless expression swept over her face as she sniffed and took a moment to steady her breath. It was like you weren't even there in the same room as her, and you don't think you ever felt so small in front of the one who always made you feel like you could do anything. There was static in the silence, and you didn't understand how the sound of nothingness could be so loud. The air in the room was suffocating, and suddenly this place doesn't feel so homely.

"Mom, I'm here. We're okay. Everything is going to be okay. I promise," you assured softly as you took another step toward her and awkwardly placed a hand on her shoulder.

She pulled away almost instantly as if you had burned her, and just as quickly your stomach was in knots from the inside out.

"Get away from me, I can't even look at you right now," Leslie blurted out, the sharpness in her tone enough to make your bones jump. "Don't you dare touch me."

Your hand returned clumsily back to your side, and she might as well have slapped you because those words were just as damaging. You bit the inside of your cheek to stay quiet and to keep the tears from streaming down, but deep down you knew that could only last for so long.

"We should have never took you in, you weren't worth it. There's thousands of other kids who need a home in this world, and we chose you. You turned out to be such a disappointment," she said grimly, her bleak gaze averted to the floor. You didn't know if you should consider it a blessing that she wasn't looking at you, because you didn't think you could handle it if she did.

A disappointment. That was enough to break you.

"M-Mom, I... I'm so sorry," your voice cracked into broken sobs, and you struggled to string the words coherently. "I'm so so sorry. Please don't give up on me. Please don't get rid of me, I'll do – I'll do anything."

Silence.

You could hear someone's footsteps coming, but you didn't bother to look up and see who it was. Your eyes were fixated on Leslie, hoping and praying that she would face you and tell you that she didn't mean what she said.

Through the blur of your tears, you noticed that Jim entered the scene and stood close to Leslie. He settled his hand on her shoulder and caressed it with circular motions, comforting her as she continued to weep. They stayed like that for a few minutes, but it felt so much longer than that. You were hiccuping between low whimpers, and a small part of you was hoping that Jim would reassure you or show some type of sympathy. Maybe he felt differently. Maybe you weren't a disappointment to him.

"Look at what you've done. You did this. You broke her. What do you have to say for yourself?" Jim snapped with the most hateful tone he could muster, his face hardened and cold. Each word felt like a jab to your already sick stomach.

You didn't say anything. You couldn't. You knew how pathetic you would sound if you even tried.

"Of course you don't have anything to say," Jim uttered a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disapproval. He wasn't looking at you either. "You know she's right. We wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you. You ruined everything."

You nodded your head in agreement and you covered your mouth with a hand to stifle the sobs that threatened to come pouring out while your nails dug furiously into your forearm.

"I know," you muttered, your red-rimmed eyes filling with tears as they rushed down your face. "I know. I messed up, so bad. Mom and Dad, please forgive me, you're all I have. I can't – I can't be on my own again."

"I'm sorry, but we've given you several chances. We can't do this anymore," Jim admitted, his tone was unforgiving and piercingly sharp. "We tried, but this is just not going to work out."

"Don't you dare start with me. Don't waste your breath begging. You had to have known this was bound to happen," Leslie chimed in, her voice laced with hostility and her features twisted into a bitter scowl. Your nails gripped your arm harder, and you were almost certain that you were about to break the skin now.

"Please, just give me another chance, please," you pleaded amidst your struggle to form a proper sentence together. "I can try to make it better, just let me."

"There is no negotiation. You can't get yourself out of this one. Not this time," Jim raised his voice, it was harsh and forbidding.

He charged forward and seized your right arm in his firm hold, so tight that he was squeezing your skin. You writhed about to try and escape his grasp even though it proved to be futile. The more you fought, the harder he clenched on your skin. You cried out to Leslie for help while you struggled, but she didn't even look in your direction. It felt as if she couldn't hear or see you, like you were nothing to them. He forced you down a dark hall with him, and your heart rapidly thumped in your chest, so much so that you thought it was going to give out.

He came to a halt only to open a door to a small room. You took a closer look at it and discovered that it was a cramped, pitch-black closet. You nearly choked on the lump stuck in your throat, and a rock settled in your stomach once you realized what was going to happen. You were shoved into the closet with a forceful push, and before he slammed the door he yelled out, "You're staying in here until we can get rid of you!"

–––––––––––––––––––––––

Jim couldn't stop thinking about how close you came to dying. The machine next to you beeped out a heart rate, a blood pressure. He needed you to be alright. Jim was seated beside your bed, his chair pulled as close as he could get it. Your hand was lying limply in his tight grip, being the one that was not connected to an IV attached to a saline bag. Jim was praying – praying that you would survive this.

The muscles in his jaw clenched sporadically as he inhaled and exhaled, slowly and silently. He was trying to keep his mind blank and his body calm but he was quick to find out that was nearly impossible. He couldn't stop his breath from catching each time he looked at you and saw how pale and damaged you were. Tears dropped on your hospital gown as his hand on yours tightened. He was supposed to save you. His eyes shot open and he tore his hand away from you, jolting from his chair to start pacing around the room, hands running through his hair.

His breathing became erratic and his body ached from the suppressed rage he was holding in. He wanted to scream and yell and kill the maniac who was the sole reason you were lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Taking a few deep breaths, he attempted to calm himself, blanking his mind as he had learnt to from so many years of controlling himself. He dropped back into the chair with a sigh, and he gently took hold of your hand again. The truth was that being here with you was killing him, knowing how much he had let you down, it was the real reason he could hardly look you in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault," he whispered.

–––––––––––––––––––––––

You rushed back to the door to try to escape but then you heard the click of it being locked by Jim.

"Please let me out! Please, I'll be good, I'll be good! I promise! Don't leave me!" you pleaded brokenly as you pounded your balled up fists on the door over and over again. There wasn't a sliver of light coming through the room, and you could hear Jim's footsteps as he walked away from the closet without another word. Wave after wave of dread rushed over you, and spikes of cold fear stabbed at your chest. Sweat covered your skin, and you were feeling the closeness of the walls surrounding you.

Nothing stopped the panic rising in your gut. You inhaled deeply through your nose and exhaled through pursed lips, just like Leslie had taught you when you were feeling anxious. "Please... I – I don't want to be alone anymore," you whispered, and started thumping quietly on the door in a last ditch effort in case they changed their minds. The next breath that you got in just then exploded from your lungs in a sob.

The hot tears dripped down your face as you tried to regain control of your breathing, but it was useless. There was no saving you. They didn't love you anymore. And after all the trouble you put them through, you didn't blame them. You leaned your whole body to the door hopelessly as you whimpered lowly to yourself. You were twitching involuntarily as you struggled to stay upright. You lacked any motivation to move or to speak or to do anything, everything felt agonizingly painful. You decided you deserved this, every part of it.

You stood there, alone, for what seemed like forever. You just wanted to get out, but you felt drained of all your energy and you were completely exhausted. It wasn't worth trying to escape when they weren't going to let you out no matter how much you begged.

Your eyes became heavy and as they were slowly drifting shut, you heard an oddly comforting sound of someone humming outside the door. Immediately, you jolted up because maybe you had a chance of getting out of here. You pressed your ear against the door so you could hear it more clearly. The sound continued and you determined that it was a young man's voice, which was very familiar.

"Is somebody there?" you asked, and when there was no answer, you repeated yourself.

The thrumming started to sound more faint and like it was slowly starting to disappear. You needed to find out where it was coming from. You pulled on the doorknob and to your surprise, it was unlocked. Your heart jumped in your fear that Jim or Leslie would push you right back in, and as you started to cautiously step out, you still didn't see them. Maybe it was safe.

You made your way down the hall with careful footsteps as you looked about your surroundings. There was only darkness, but as you explored further, you caught sight of a dim light at the end of the corridor that brought color to the room. The humming sounded clearer now. You wasted no time rushing to it, and suddenly hope was alive again that there was a way out of here.

Your instincts guided you while your mind struggled to keep up. There was a corner and then you were running down another hall.

You ran as fast as your feet could carry you, and when you finally reached your destination you saw a door that was wide open where the light came from. You knew something was wrong the moment you stepped into it. You swallowed the lump in your throat once the smell assaulted your nose.

Colors suddenly began to shine bright and wet on the dark walls, what looked like crude paintings done with messy red hand-prints. Puddles of blood on the floor. There was so much of it. The air was like fire against your skin, making you sweat, yet you felt cold. Fear took your heart in its vice-like grip, and the hairs on the back of your neck prickled. You couldn't speak, you couldn't scream, you couldn't do anything. You were frozen.

When your eyes scanned the rest of the room, you saw Jerome in front of crumpled bodies on the floor beneath him. He was covered in dried and fresh blood from head to toe, how it was running through his fingers, slippery and metallic as he took turns stabbing Leslie and Jim's bodies. He plunged a knife deep in their shoulders, their arms, their stomachs, their legs. There wasn't a single part of them that wasn't covered in blood. He was wearing a satisfied, smug kind of smile on his face, too big to be a smirk, with a flash of teeth. His hair was disheveled and his face was glazed with a faint layer of sweat and dirt. On his forehead was one single, pale pink line where his target had attempted to pry and claw him away. He watched with sick pleasure as the person underneath him squirmed.

You couldn't do anything. Your parents were dying in front of you and you couldn't do anything. You tried to move but you felt compelled to stay in place as the crime scene played out before you. The pair on the floor finally made a sound: a weak, choked exhale, shivered more than truly breathed. That sound earned a low, sardonic chuckle from Jerome. Broken lines of deep maroon was smudged on the floor, and you recognized that the family photos that hung in your parents' bedroom were broken and tossed about the place. You didn't know if he could see you or not because he didn't bother looking at you or showed any indication that he knew you were there.

Jerome knelt down to take in the image of his prey. His eyes were dark and focused as he examined their battered forms. A vile smirk played across his face, clearly proud, as he began to take in all the details: their legs were splayed on the floor, their ripped clothing drenched and leaking with scarlet as it sipped into the floorboards, the lifelessness of their eyes, faces scarred and mangled, how their bodies twitched with the acceptance of defeat, cuts and bruises covering every inch of their skin.

You heard the sound of dull footsteps making its way to the room, the figure coming out from the shadows. Your breath hitched the moment you saw who it was.

It was you. Only this version of you was covered in blood, it dotted your face and painted your attire shamelessly.

The wicked grin that played on her lips scared you more than anything. She played a part in this, too. She killed them with him.

You glanced down at the blade in her hand that was dripping with crimson, and felt yourself shiver when she tossed it to the ground. The sound was amplified by the heavy silence in the room. You still couldn't move.

She rushed to Jerome without waiting another moment and his hands were on her, turning her to face him. He angled his head to capture her mouth, and she cupped his blood spattered cheek in her hand. His kiss was searing. Starving. His body drove her back, stumbling from the force it, though his hold kept her upright. Her legs hit the wall and he lifted her up against it, hands reaching down to press her further against him by her ass. They needed each other. Ached for one another.

His kisses dragged along her throat, nipping and biting as speckles of his blood rubbed onto her skin. You could hear him tell her how much he wanted her, of the many ways he was going to take her, detailing promises that one day he would fulfill them all. His voice was like honey and she licked it from his lips, his hands dipping below the hem of her black skirt. Fingertips trailed along her thighs, slowly tracing the parting of her lips through her panties and already it wasn't enough. It could never be enough. She could feel her pulse racing beneath the brush of his hand, her hips already arching to meet him.

This was you.

You helped him kill your parents.

"You look fucking gorgeous like this, doll," he groaned low in her ear as his body drew close, stepping between her parting knees. Her breath was caught in her throat, her chest rising and falling in anticipation. He grinned, tilting her chin up with his other hand, staring at her intently. "Is this what you want?" he questioned, dragging his thumb against her lip.

"Please," she choked out with her eyes drifted shut as his fingertips circled against damp fabric, enough to tantalize but not nearly enough to satisfy. She reached forward in her haze to drag him into a heated kiss, his hand working her panties down as his other set to free himself from his pants.

He positioned himself, drawing her legs up around him, biting her neck hard as he pressed himself into her. Her back arched, gasping as she urged him on, begging for more. Kicking off her shoes, she hooked her ankles behind him so she could drive him forward, leaning back on the wall as he dragged her hips further down, angling to bury himself deeper.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and she turned to look at you with a wicked grin and a malignant laugh spilled from her lips. "This is who you are, this is who you've become! Accept me, love me!"

"No, stop! I'll never be you! Please stop!"

You bolted up on your bed, shaking and cold with sweat. You drew quick, shuddering breaths, your face wet with tears. All the monitors around your bed flashed various numbers and vital signs, offering reassurance that you were indeed, technically speaking, still alive. Your gaze shifted quickly to your surroundings, scanning the stark white room, flinching from the fluorescent lights.

Then a scent: clinical, disinfectant, comforting. Touch came to you next, the feeling of a hand clutched to yours, warm and loving.

"It's okay. I'm here," Jim assured in a hushed voice.

"Dad? Dad," you whispered, a small smile spreading across your face. "Dad," you repeated insistently, and Jim's tear-blinded gaze never wavered from your own. The first thing you were aware of was the steady beeping of a machine. You tried to remember everything that took place on the fuzzy edge of your memory.

You remembered why you were here in the first place, how one moment you were in the safe embrace of Jim's arms, and the next thing you knew a gunshot pierced the air before everything went out of focus. You recalled the searing, sharp pain in your shoulder, and you could feel the blood leaking from you, but then that was it. Everything else was a blur. But you knew that it was morning now and that you were in a hospital; safe and alive and where Jerome couldn't get you.

"You're going okay, he can't get you here," Jim said as he gripped tighter onto your hand.

"Is Mom okay?" you implored.

"Yeah, I checked on her, she's okay," he told you with a small smile.

"Thank God," you said with a loud sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry Dad, this is all my fault. I'm so sorry," you choked out after a beat.

"This is not your fault. None of it is. This is all Jerome's doing," he said, his tone sounding hateful when he mentioned the reason why you were here in the first place.

Even though he's trying to reassure you, it doesn't stop the tears streaming down your face. "Please forgive me, please don't get rid of me, I'm so sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen," you begged around a choked sob.

Jim's eyebrows knit together in concern. "No, no, we would never. We love you. Please, I can't believe you would say such a thing," he whispered as he leaned over to wrap his arm around your back and pulled you into a hug that wouldn't hurt your shoulder.

You sobbed into his shoulder, tears pouring into the fabric of his suit. You didn't say anything more, staying silent as he continued to try to cheer you up by reminding you of how much he loved you.

"I killed those cops, Dad, that was me, I did it," you wept, and your heavy heart ached as you thought about all the cops whose lives were lost, because of you.

After a long moment, he pulled away from the hug to look you in the eye. "Jerome killed those cops, not you. I'm going to make a statement tomorrow and tell the police everything that happened. Everything he did. Don't blame yourself, this is not on you," he paused to make sure you understood but you merely nodded. "I'm going to kill Jerome. He's never going to lay a finger on you or Lee ever again. I swear. There's no way in hell he's getting away with any of this."


End file.
